In the mid-morning hours the following day, Rhea had rushed through her chores and was getting cleaned up, putting on the dress that Portia had pulled out yesterday. She smoothed it over her figure, picking off a stray hair. From the bottom of the same closet she pulled out a pair of worn but decent looking dark brown shoes. These were salvaged from Scarlett's massive collection.
Once feeling like she looked representable enough as a commoner, she grabbed one of her handmade bags and slung it over her shoulders. She didn't expect to buy anything, mostly because she wasn't paid to be a servant in her own home, and what she did have, she saved for only worst-case scenarios. But if she found a pretty flower, or a nice rock, she might pick it up to liven up her room a bit. She also had her sketching journal stashed inside which held many designs of dresses and clothing she wanted to make.
Bidding farewell to Portia, she left through the front door, feeling a strange sensation coming over her. How long had it been since she left without anyone demanding her presence, or anyone forbidding her from doing so? Years, definitely. Before the funeral and before Thelma, she was almost certain of that. Stepping down the stone steps and onto the path towards town, Rhea took a deep breath of clean air that had the slightest smell of the sea and smiled.
Meridian Shores was a quaint place. It used to be just a few houses of the nobles closest to the prior king. These days, it was a proper town, with more housing and shops and a proper town square. King Roland had been strict but fair, and he was also charming from what Rhea knew. He had a wife, but she ended up disappearing sometime before Rhea had been born. Because of her disappearance, the king fell ill and was sick for a long time. The searches for the queen eventually stopped once he neared death. When he died, there was no one to assume the throne other than his brother, the current king, Gareth Edwards.
Rhea remembered Gareth. He had lived with his family just down the road from her family. As she passed the now dilapidated structure, she paused and examined the yard. It was overgrown, with natural weeds and wildflowers growing thick and unruly. In her mind's eye, she remembered herself and Cynfael, Gareth's only child, running around and playing games together. Like kicking a ball back and forth once in a while as their fathers visited over foreign relations and their mothers swapped family recipes, or both children on the ground, watching a line of ants marching towards food or their home. Days like that were rare back then, and impossible after Gareth took over the kingdom.
The last time Rhea and Cynfael had spent any time together was after King Roland's funeral. They sat side by side on the beach, watching the water. The sun was setting and it was still a few days before the coronation.
Cynfael had picked up a stone and chucked it out with all the force a thirteen year old boy could muster. He let out a shout after it, hitting the sand with his fist. Rhea observed him quietly, and offered some words after he'd calmed down, "It's okay, you know. To be mad, and to not like the situation you're presented with."
Cynfael sniffed and swiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. "It's not fair. None of it is! Because he died, now my life has to change and I... I won't get to see you anymore."
"Nonsense!" Rhea declared boldly. "Your dad will be king, and he'll be one of the best we've ever had. You'll see. He knows we're friends, and he wouldn't isolate you from your friends, right?"
He had looked at Rhea with a dampness to his amber eyes, "I suppose not..."
Rhea smiled brightly, reaching over to pat his hand, "Keep your head up, Cynfael. Everything will be okay."
The boy nodded, "Can you promise me something?"
"Depends on the something," she teased.
"Marry me. When we're older, marry me so we never have to be apart!"
Rhea's eyes went wide and her face heated up with his brazen proclamation. "I-"
He suddenly held up his hands, face paling. "Wait! Don't answer. I don't think I could handle it if you said no. Just... forget it."
She didn't say anything, but after a few moments of silence both of them started giggling. Despite his seriousness, or lack of awareness of what he'd just asked, they had ended the evening on a brighter note than they entered it. That last day became a fond memory in her mind, and she'd hoped and prayed that he had grown into a fine gentleman as the years passed. It had been a while since the last time she'd thought of Cynfael, especially since she was cut off from most of the news in the kingdom aside from what was overheard in her own house.
Taking another deep breath to recenter herself and clear her mind, she gave a small wave to the old house and continued down the path to town.
***
Almost an hour later, she found herself in the town square, examining different trinkets and wares from various sellers. According to one of the townspeople she'd asked, today was the monthly Crafters' Guild Market. Many people in the guild came to sell their products, much like the Farmers' Markets she and her mother visited when she was a child. There were merchants and many more townspeople milling about, hauling wagons with goats or donkeys. Rhea found it fascinating.
She was bent over looking at a spinning flower pendant curiously just as there was a loud shout from a few stalls away. "Thief!" one of the merchants shouted at a thin woman.
"No!" the woman cried. "I swears by the heavens, I haven't stolen a thing!"
Rhea stood up and walked closer, drawn in by the crowd forming. She slipped easily between people to see what was happening. An older man with a round belly was pointing to an empty spot on his table and he had one of the woman's wrists in his other hand, clenching tightly. "Guards! Someone find the guards! This woman right here is a thief! She stole one of my fabrics!"
A low murmur passed through the crowd. Rhea noticed the fear in the woman's eyes and her gaze traveled to the goat standing just behind the woman. There was a peculiar piece of "grass" hanging from its mouth. Rhea's eyes moved to the man's feet, just underneath the table. There was the crumpled pile of fabric, matching the piece in the goat's mouth. She wondered if anyone else had noticed this while the man was still screaming about the theft.
Thudding footsteps alerted her to the sound of the guards coming, and she made the decision to step forward. She bent down to pick up the fabric on the ground and cleared her throat quietly. The man looked around before turning and seeing her. Noticing the fabric in her hands, he looked at her confused. "Pardon me, sir," Rhea started, her voice calm. "Is this the fabric you're missing?"
The man regarded her silently before dropping the other woman's hand and nodding, "It is."
"It was lying just under the table there. It seems the goat took a liking to it," she added, amused.
He turned again to look at the goat, then groaned and snatched the fabric from her hands. He said something in a language she didn't know and walked around to the back of the table. The woman stepped up to her and put her hand on her shoulder. "Oh, thank ye, miss, thank ye!" she said in a shaky voice. She scolded the goat and tugged on the leash as she hurried away from the man's table.
The crowd dispersed and two guards had stepped up to talk to the man. Rhea smiled a little and turned to continue her browsing. Just as she did, she ran into someone's chest. "Oh! Excuse me, I didn't see you," she apologized, stepping back to put space between them.
"Rhea?" an unfamiliar voice said her name.
She looked up, blinking. A man, taller than her by a few inches, stood with another even taller man at his side. He had short raven colored hair slicked back and shaved at the sides, with inquisitive amber eyes, a color that sparked her memory. "Cynfael?" she asked, astounded.
"You will address the royal prince accordingly, miss," the man next to her old friend said in a gruff tone. Rhea noticed his piercing green eyes, the color of which reminded her of thick bright river moss. His mahogany colored hair was slightly longer than Cynfael's and was left wavy, almost disheveled. She noticed a thick scar across his brow before she averted her gaze shyly.
"Alaric, please," Cynfael put his hand on the man's shoulder, "Rhea's a friend, and she's Henri Sr.'s daughter."
The man named Alaric cleared his throat and adjusted his stance. "I wasn't aware he had a third daughter. Please excuse my ignorance, my Lady."
"O-oh, no, I'm not a lady. Please, just call me Rhea," she said nervously, avoiding that intense stare.
Cynfael chuckled quietly, "It's so nice to see you after all this time!" he exclaimed, raising his arms as if measuring the years between them. "You've grown so much."
"You should talk," she smiled, "there was a time, if I remember correctly, where I was taller than you once."
He puffed out his chest, placing one of his hands on it like a proud pigeon strutting around. "Thank you."
"What are you doing out here? Shopping?" Rhea asked, gesturing to the market.
"On a leisurely stroll, as it were. I like to come to town and see how people are doing," the prince said, looking around. "We heard the commotion from the street over and came right away."
Cynfael gestured to the man next to him and suddenly became embarrassed. "I apologize, I haven't introduced you. Forgive my lack of manners," he turned back to Rhea, "this is Alaric Vaughn, Captain of the Royal Guard. My babysitter, for lack of a better word."
Rhea grinned at the joke, turning to offer her hand to the captain. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."
"Likewise, Lady Rhea," Alaric took her hand and brought it to his lips. The stubble around his mouth poked her skin lightly, and the feeling of his warm touch sent pleasant shivers up her arm. She blushed, feeling out of place.
"Are we interrupting you right now?" Cynfael asked.
Rhea shook her head, "Not at all! It's the first time in a while I've been out, so I was surprised to see this market. I was just looking around."
"Doing some shopping of your own?"
Her smile was more polite than anything as she shook her head sadly, "'fraid not, my friend. My purse is lacking, to put it mildly."
Realization crossed over the prince's face, "Didn't the port master leave yesterday for Silverwater? Why are you here?"
"Ah, yes," she shifted her weight uncomfortably, "Father and Thelma left with their children." Her words were matter-of-fact and didn't offer any more than that.
Alaric's ever-aware gaze flicked between the two and he spoke up to clear the awkward air, "Perhaps, my Prince, Lady Rhea here was left to ensure the upkeep of the home while they're gone."
Cynfael nodded, "Of course. My apologies for questioning you so, Rhea."
Rhea shook her head and waved her hands, "It's no trouble, don't worry about it."
"Well, since we're here and it's a rare occasion, would you mind joining me for tea?" Cynfael smiled kindly at her. "Perhaps a meal?"
Her eyes flicked between the kind face of her old friend and the steely expression of the captain. "I-I don't have any money—"
"It'll be my treat, Rhea," Cynfael interrupted her. In a softer voice he added, "Please let me do this for you."
She looked down at her hands while she ran excuses through her head. No matter what she said, he'd try to interject into her plans. That's just how Cynfael was. She smiled at the thought that she was here, in the flesh, to see he hadn't changed, that the royal life hadn't made him cold or hardened. Rhea finally nodded, "Of course, that sounds lovely."
"Fantastic!" Cynfael grinned, walking forward and placing a hand on the small of her back as they escorted her out of the market. "I know a little place overlooking the water."
She felt both joy and trepidation at the impromptu lunch invitation, wondering if her earlier observations were completely accurate about the prince. Not only that, but it had been so long that she'd conversed with anyone other than children or Portia. What if she made a fool of herself? Talked herself into a corner? She couldn't let him find out about the state of her wellbeing, not right now. Her burdens were her own to bear, she believed that and reminded herself of it as she continued to walk with both men.