Escape to the Sea (Tangled Hearts #1)

Chapter 28 Settling In

Tomlyn

The guards gave me half a ten-day in Yaventown to get my affairs in order. Sylf was furious, and she had every right to be. But we shared two days locked up in the rowhouse where we didn’t leave, and she made me promise to write to her, often, daily, if I could help it. I don’t know if I have enough words in me to write to her every day, but I’ll try.

It is surprising how much of my life is stuffed into a large steamer trunk (well, by stuffed I mean, I stuffed it, it didn’t fit, and then Sylf tossed everything back out and packed it neatly, while swearing at me. I love a multi-talented woman). She dropped me off near the front of the guard house in the Crown District, and I wedged my things in between two sacks of flour and six cases of sugar.

The carriage ride to Vetro Di Mare from Yaventown is pretty and terribly boring. Honestly, I think that we did the prince some favors by kidnapping him. But me, the two sacks of flour, and the six cases of sugar that I ride with are granted passage quite a few times, until finally, we pull onto the travel road that leads into the sleepy fishing town that stands in the shadow of Vinitore.

There’s a bunch of squat houses with colorful roofs and shutters, set off in cute, homey little clusters around each hill. There are people in the streets already, selling wares, trading and moving around the city. The docks are already crowded with fishermen getting ready for the day on the water. It’s such a different atmosphere from the Belly and the Throat. Even Sylf’s rowhouse is still on the poorer side of the Market and is shaded half the year. Here, everyone is exposed to the same amount of sun, and no one seems to be in the shadows of their so-called betters.

But the carriage moves on, passing the town and moving up to the castle on the hill.

Well, I say on the hill. But it does really dominate the whole landscape. The carriage passes the first gate at the base of the hill, and we move past the first of nine large gardens.

The Wyrd Sea is a cloudy haze mostly at this point, but the gardens here do remind me of the meadow in some ways. Hundreds of blooms are being carefully maintained, and a few greenhouses pop up from behind the walls of the inner complex.

The carriage darts away from the largest towers, and instead heads to a large one-story building that connects to the castle proper.

I hop out as the carriage finally stops and I grab my steamer trunk. Standing outside is an older gentleman in austere black and plum, and next to him is a tall, stout woman with gray hair pinned and braided back in a simple but neat braid. I do my best to bow awkwardly with the steamer trunk.

“Mister Baker, Welcome to Vetro Di Mare.” the older man says, and gives a small nod. “I am Bertrand, equerry to Prince Ephraim and the head of the servants at this estate. Ultimately, you will be answering to His Highness, as we all do, but I will provide instructions on your day to day responsibilities unless His Highness states otherwise. I am aware of the… arrangement that you two have struck, and I will attempt to keep rumors and gossip-mongering to a minimum. It would serve you well to do the same.”

So basically, keep my nose clean and my head down and don’t make waves. Where have I heard that before? I nod, trying desperately to not let my stupid mouth fuck up a good thing. “Yes, sir.”

He nods, seemingly pleased with my deference. “Your official title while you remain within the halls of the castle is footman. But, you will also be responsible for quite a few kitchen duties, per the Prince’s request.” He gestures to the woman next him, who I’m guessing is the head cook.

I suppose Ephraim was listening through our tromp in the forest. “I’ve got some experience with cooking, ma’am. But I’m obviously willing to do anything you need me to do.”

“Good. You’ve got big shoulders, expect to be hauling a lot of stuff around,” she says with a bark of laughter. “My name is Lenore—you’ll hate me soon enough. There will always be a pot of something for you on the stove, so don’t steal nothing from the royal plates and we’ll get along fine.”

“That’s for fancy folk anyway. A bit rich for my blood.”

Lenore gives me a quick nod back and then turns and heads in. “Bertrand, you know where to send him when he’s ready. I’ve got two trout to clean and they’re not getting any less dead.”

“Of course, Lenore.” He nods, and then looks at me. “Come along.”

The castle is austere, well kept, and no one here seems particularly happy to see me. A new emotion for sure. Bertrand finally leads me to a small room with three beds in it. It reminds me of a room in the charger outposts.

I set my trunk down at the foot of the free bed, and sit on top of it as Bertrand closes the door behind him. He stands with his arms behind his back, a stance of authority. It occurs to me that I’m probably twice, maybe three times Bertrand’s age. But despite the age difference due to my elven heritage, there’s something about his look that makes me feel like a child again.

“I want to make a few things clear here, Mister Baker.”

“Is this where you tell me you’ve worked with Ephraim and his family for a long time and will make sure that I regret it if I put his life in danger in any way?” I ask. Bertrand gives me a severe look and I shrug. “I figured that’s what was coming. May I be honest with you, Bertrand?”

“I believe you will speak your mind regardless, but very well.”

“If I wanted to hurt Ephraim, I had a thousand opportunities to do it. I am smarter than I look. I hope that there are a lot of people here that would run me through if I did something to even mess up a curl on his immaculate golden head. I know my place.”

Bertrand nods, assessing me carefully. Ah, yes. He was probably expecting the unrefined brute to not think through anything. But there’s no use in rocking the boat by accident. I really do like keeping my head on my shoulders.

That said, I want to know how this place works.

Someone knew where to knock over Ephraim. He left court early, and someone knew. So now I have to hope that everyone here is as honest and loyal and true as Mister Bertrand.

Or else there will be more opportunities for others to take advantage, or worse, kill him.

“I’m glad that you and I can find common ground,” he says, and then gets to his feet. “I’m sure that your new roommates will reach out to you at dinner. For now, His Highness requested you join him in the Periwinkle Room.”

“E’s—He’s been waiting for me this whole time?”

“You are to refer to Prince Ephraim by his proper title, His Highness,” Bertrand chides. “I know you’ve heard it all before. But do not harm him. If you do, I will personally ensure your head ends up neatly on a pike.”

“Do you all still do that here? Seems unsanitary for you surface folk,” I say, giving him a warm smile.

He does not return it, instead he turns primly on the balls of his feet and out the door. Following him, I mark the paths of this place in my mind, and even though I’m trying to remain dutiful, nose clean, and head empty, I can’t help but think, let my mind wander.

Too many ways in and out, too many people moving in and out. The guards look mostly bored, if anything. It fits with the romantic, picturesque castle. But it doesn’t befit a prince who just got kidnapped.

Undisciplined, untrained. Useless men who must be whipped into shape. You know better.

My father’s voice echoes in my mind, and, for once, I don’t disagree. Where’s the urgency? Why aren’t people gripping their polearms a little tighter at the sight of an unfriendly new face?

Finally, the castle starts to clear as we make it to the Periwinkle Room. There are two guards posted at the doors, a blue demonkin and a human with blond hair braided tight at the nape of his neck. At least they both eye me with suspicion as Bertrand gives them a short nod and opens the door.

The Periwinkle Room is so bright, compared to the bowels of the servant’s quarters. It’s freshly painted, with each wall containing large oil frescoes of the sea, great naval battles and fishing conquests. Ephraim is lounging lazily on an oversized chair, biting into an apple as he reads over his mail for the morning.

As he sees me and Bertrand he straightens. I smile behind Bertrand’s back and Ephraim beams, moving towards us like an over-eager puppy before slowing his stride, as if remembering his place and Bertrand.

“Bertrand! Thank you for escorting Tomlyn.”

“Of course, your Highness. Do you have need of me still, or—”

“No, no. I’ll dismiss him when I’m ready,” Ephraim says, clearly eager to get the older man out of the room.

Bertrand looks him over, curious, but still gives Ephraim a short bow and leaves.

As soon as the door closes, the excited puppy dog demeanor is back and he moves to clear the distance between us.

At first I think he’s going to give me a hug, but then he stops himself. “I see that you are settling in well.”

“As well as can be expected, Your Highness.”

“Please, don’t. You don’t have to. Not when there’s no one else around. Ephraim is fine, or… or E.”

So not cutie then. Damn. “Got it, E.”

Ephraim beckons me over to the chair where he was sitting. There’s another full breakfast laid out here, fresh eggs and bread piping hot from the oven, the butter melting and dripping down the sides. “Sit, eat,” he says, and opens up another letter. “I’m catching up on the last of the business from court.”

“I thought you only missed half a tenday?”

“It was, apparently, a very interesting half a tenday,” he says, patting the sheaf of papers nearby. “Seriously, I can’t finish all this breakfast myself.”

I take a few pieces of bread, some honey butter, and some fresh cheese and then lean back. “So, I know you told me how this is going to work vaguely. But now I think it’s time for specifics.”

“Well, while I’m here in Vinitore, you’ll simply be working around the castle. I’ll have need of you for some things, but mostly you’ll be helping with Lenore and Bertrand and Albert, the master-at-arms. But… there will be times where I’ll need you to take some correspondence into the city. And when winter and summer court occurs in Yaventown, you’ll be there to accompany me there too.”

“So am I your butler or am I the help? That’s two different positions.”

Ephraim shrugs, taking another bite of his apple. “Well, direct supervision requires some unusual arrangements. But also, I saw you, in the forest and in the Sea. You’re not a criminal. You may do a little bit of crime from time to time, but that’s not who you are.”

“I guess that’s a way of putting it.”

“Try not to look at this like a prison sentence.”

“It’s hard not to,” I say. “It is one.”

“But hopefully a little nicer than the cells in Vinitore.”

I chuckle and look at him. “Fair enough, E. So, what do you really want me to do?”

Ephraim sits back. “I’m in an odd mood, Tommy. I should be cowed, shouldn’t I? But I’m not scared. I’m rather angry. People like you, and those other scoundrels in the woods, are a byproduct of the way things are being handled in Yaventown. Why should I get mad about being kidnapped? I should be angry about the fact crime runs rampant enough in the bowels of Yaventown to spill out into the countryside.”

I stir my own tea carefully. “So now you’re going to take down crime in one fell swoop?”

Ephraim shakes his head. “It’s not my territory, not my family’s either. There’s not much I can do there. But at least I can try and push my family, and maybe through my branch the rest of the court could take a greater interest in it.”

“So you want me to help you save the world?”

Ephraim chuckles. “I sound like a fool, don’t I?”

“A little. But it’s cute. It’s you.”

Ephraim flushes handsomely and then looks down at his letter. “Well. Foolish it may be, but I can’t sit back and do nothing, not anymore.”

I shrug. “I have all the time in the world, E. Put me where you need me.”

The rest of the conversation is brief. Maybe a quarter-bell later I’m back out and down the hallway.

I can already trying to figure out how the letter will play out in my head.

Dear S,

I’m at the castle. E is like we remember. This place is too open, but I’ll get it together. Try not to burn the town down while I’m gone. 18 months is like nothing to us. I will come home soon.

Miss You Already,

T.

- P.S. Can you find a way to get my shrine here? Sorry you couldn’t pack it in my steamer trunk.

- P.P.S.: Try not to miss me, Karadin .