Ro was dressed in an entirely different attire. For some reason, they had decided not to go through her things. Unlike the thin-layered fabrics of Erzi's traditional clothing, she was swathed with an inner garment and a draping embroidered robe.
Ro nearly buckled under the weight of the dress, and the servants held her in support.
"We apologise. This is only temporary."
"Can't I wear my own fabrics?" Ro spoke up, a hand on the neckline of her gown. "This is a beautiful dress, but it's so heavy."
Some of the servants exchanged a few passing glances, surprise written on their faces.
Ester's brows furrowed slightly, confused. "Heavy?"
Ro shifted under the weight of the dress, a disturbing sensation settling in her stomach. Did they think what she was wearing was light?
"Ah… yes. It's quite heavy compared to what I am used to."
The servants looked at each other again, this time with understanding rather than surprise.
The clothing was swiftly switched out with one of hers, but Ro was granted a thick fur coat. Her legs slightly trembled under its weight, but she endured it. Ester had spoken of the heavy cold outside. This solidified Ro's suspicion that they were on a ship.
"Forgive me," Ro said slowly, carefully, "but I am having trouble remembering... the journey. How long was the voyage? Everything feels..." She trailed off, unsure how to explain without sounding mad.
'How does one say 'I remember dying' without inviting suspicion?'
Ester paused, staring intently at Ro before responding, "It's been four days, My Lady. You fell sick the first night, and you've been in and out of consciousness since then. But yesterday morning, you stated you were fine..." She then looked confused. "Do you still—"
"No, I am quite alright now," Ro cut in, raising a hand. "I appreciate your hospitality."
A fever. Was that what they had seen?
Ro accepted the explanation even as her mind rejected it. A fever didn't explain the bone-deep certainty that she had died. A fever would not have rattled her essence so deeply. Not even deep trauma can do this to a person.
But what was the alternative? Tell these strangers that she'd been murdered in her sleep and somehow woken here, days later, on a ship she had no memory of boarding?
They would think her mad.
Ro was escorted outside the cabin. Nearly all the Lispans they came across paused whatever they were doing to stare at her. And just stare they did. Not a curtsey, not a bow. The stares weren't entirely welcoming, but none were harsh either.
Ro shrunk into the coat, trying to stamp down her unease. She did not like this place. Neither could she escape anytime soon. As she stepped out onto the deck, Ro shuddered and tightened the coat around her. A cold burst of wind assaulted everyone out in the open, but she seemed to be the only one affected by it.
Her gaze slipped past the well-adorned Lispans on deck to the horizon splayed out before her. Ro's lips parted in an inaudible gasp, and her eyes widened.
Monstrous ships, all variations of wood, steel, and other materials, lined the port. Multiple times larger than the one she had come in. Erzi possessed grand ships, too, but none on this level. Land stretched out in fine blue sand that stopped where a deep forest started.
Ro's fingers loosened their hold on the fur coat, absentmindedly drowning in the landscape before her. Rocks and cliffs made up a significant portion of the port, and they stretched out for miles.
"Welcome to Lispa."
Ro flinched, turning her attention to one of the envoys standing beside her. A towering man with dark eyes and an easy smile.
He stretched out his hand and she took it after a moment's hesitation.
"Thank you," she whispered, barely audible over the wind and the crash of waves against the ship's hull.
He helped her toward the gangplank, his grip supportive without being forceful. As they descended, Ro's mind continued to race. The port was busy, with a lot of the Lispans sparing brief, subtle glances in their direction. Who wouldn't stare when there were literally people in official garbs and attendants in tow?
Official garbs… Attendants…
A disturbing dread settled upon Ro. Her body grew numb but her feet still carried her along.
At the funeral, she had heard whispers of Envoys coming in from Lispa for domestic relations after decades of discord. They would have had discussions. Political agreements.
She eyed the monstrous vessels. "Are those warships?"
The envoy paused and looked back at her. The other envoys walking ahead paused too, along with the attendants traipsing down behind them.
His eyes drifted to the nearby ships, and his lips stretched into a smile as he chuckled. "Rest assured, they're not." They continued walking, and he added, "Our warships are far larger than that."
Ro swallowed, sparing one last glance at the ships as they reached dry land.
The sand felt uncomfortable to walk on, but she pressed on with some assistance. Shadows moved within the trees, and she went still, digging her feet into the sand.
Ro frowned. "The woods—"
The rest of the words died in her throat as the shadows took shape and form, emerging from the trees.
Her muscles clenched and her grip tightened in the envoy's hold as two large bears marched onto the sand, heavy paws creating deep indents that echoed across the sand. They both dragged behind them a large wheeled carriage, their leather-bound harnesses rippling against pitch black fur. The ropes were thick, exceedingly thick enough to pull along the heavy vehicle. If the beasts were tired, they bore no sign of it.
"What… what is that?" Ro whispered, dread rooting her in place.