Chapter Twenty Six

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Chapter Twenty Six

The sun shone down on the perspiring city, heating it up even more as the summer snuck in and caused shimmering mirages to appear over every surface, rippling in a misguided attempt to shake the air for its secrets; Safita felt the warmth seep through the fabric of her dress as she strolled along through the street towards the city gardens. They had become her favourite place in the city aside from Nell’s library and she walked there nearly every day; she would often spend a few hours either in the afternoon or evening there just relaxing and thinking over anything which came to mind. The burbling fountains calmed her when she was troubled and the large trees which created enormous pools of cool that shaded her from the summer sun reminded her of the forests in the Outlands; even now she still occasionally had trouble adjusting, found herself expecting to spend the day loitering in smoky taverns or practising with Hergun, woke up with the need to fight and the feeling that something dangerous was coming or instinctively reached for her cloak before she had even got dressed, springing out of bed and preparing to get moving as quickly as possible. Still she had, much to her chagrin, generally adjusted far better than she would have liked – back in the Outlands they would have mocked her and been ashamed to have fitted in with so little a struggle; she felt like she ought to have put up more of a fight. Although some things took her some getting used to and some things from the Outlands she missed, she had shed her old clothes so quickly that she wasn’t quite sure who she was anymore.

She crossed her arms as she leant against one of the walls and looked over the garden on the tier below; the sun ran through the streets in buttery rivers and she paused to watch the people pass her down below. She had become surprisingly introspective since her arrival in Coraina, most likely due to the vast changes she had had to get used to and she had discovered a newfound interest in relaxing and watching people going about their business; now that she had nowhere important to be and no urgent business, now that she didn’t have to work every day that she could, she found that she was filling her days with other, more calming, activities and she was surprised by how much they had helped, especially since the night of the ball. Slowly her time here was removing the shield she had built up around herself, forcing her to become used to letting people in and removing the coldness which those years in the Outlands had instilled in her heart. A shadow fell across her as someone else came to join her while she leant against the wall and out of the corner of her eye she saw a straight nose and brown hair falling into brown eyes. “Good afternoon,” the voice said.

“Hello,” she replied evenly. “How are you?”

“I’m well thank you,” Arthan replied with a cheeky smirk, “and you?”

“I’ve been worse,” she answered offhandedly as Arthan grinned at her. Not many days after the night at the palace Favia had asked her to spend the day together and halfway through Arthan had materialised; he and Safita had got on oddly well and over the past few weeks had spent a large amount of time together.

“Oh really?” he asked.

“Well I was perfectly fine until you appeared,” she teased as Arthan burst into laughter. “Was there anything in particular you wanted or have you just come to irritate me?”

“Nothing in particular I don’t think,” he answered with a smirk. “Only irritating you is planned for today.” They turned away from the wall and began to stroll around the gardens, often falling into silence as they walked; many people they passed either stopped Arthan to greet him or gazed at him from afar – most of the people in the gardens here lived on the higher tiers and weren’t busy working but some had never met the princes and so watched him, awestruck, as they tried to work out whether it really was the younger brother of their future ruler and, when they did so, whether they could introduce themselves. Most, however, kept themselves to themselves and let them carry on, only the friends of the palace greeting him with a smile or stopping to chat to him for a minute or two. As they walked they headed up the steps to the first tier garden and Arthan unconsciously gazed up at the palace overhead. “It’s nice,” he admitted quietly, “not to have to worry about being King.”

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