The Eternal Queen

Chapter 11: Ardele

The sun starts to set, the warm colors beginning to stream through the sky. Most of the traffic has now died now as most customers come during the mid-afternoon. The shop is blissfully quiet for once, and my eyes start to close. 

Almost about to leave this world for a dreamlike one, Nora stumbles into the shop in her normally loud, disastrous manner. I sensed her footsteps from outside the building, but I still keep my eyes shut when she comes to the front desk.

"Ardele. Ardele. Ardele."

I hum, and her shadow casts shade into my vicinity.

"Ardele. How was your day?"

Opening my eyes, I shrug. "It was okay. Normal amount of people."

She dumps her boxes onto the desk. "I heard Lady Coralie stopped by."

Her name makes my ears perk up. "She did. Lady Coralie wanted a custom dress from you."

"Great! I will start cutting the fabric when she sends in a note of the dress needed," she says before pausing in her sentence. "You know who she is right?"

Staying mute, Nora sighs. "Lady Coralie is the princess of Arcana."

I stand up from the desk to pick up a silk roll that fell on the floor from the earlier from her boxes. Nora follows me around, trying to gauge my reaction. Putting the roll in the back in its place, I turn around.

"I figured."

Nora starts laughing. "I seriously cannot wait for the day I see your surprised face."

"Hm, me too."

The street is pitch black when I leave the shop, and the lamps cast a moody shadow on the stone paths. My boots click on the stone, making me walk faster. I am currently residing in an inn, renting out a room. 

And of course, the inn is always surrounded by drunk folk. Sounds of drunken laughter are on my right, and I ignore their leers. My black cloak hides my figure well in the darkness, but apparently not well enough.

A young boy stands on the street, calling out all sorts of crazy titles. The average townsfolk ignore him, but many stop by to pity him, giving him some money without taking the paper. Exaggerated stories with crazy titles spread across the papers, and one catches my eye.

Witch needed. Reward of choosing.

The boy looks up at me questioningly when I take the newspaper from his hand. The request is directly from the castle. Scanning over the criteria, it is asking for a witch skilled in medicine and healing. 

Those are not my specialized abilities, but I have extensive knowledge on medicine. And knowledge is power. I may be able to help with what is needed. But it is very suspicious for there to not be a penalty. Life does not work that way. Where there is a prize, there is a price.

The boy smiles encouragingly. "Are you a witch, miss?"

Not responding, I take a bronze coin from my bag, and hand it to him. He tips his hat at me, and I continue my way back to my space. Clutching the paper tightly in my hand, the paper starts to bite into skin. 

This may be what I need to clear my name. Even though this is may be a mysterious kingdom here in the North, I will have all the ammunition I need to be prove that I was framed in Clairemont. With the royal family on my side, it will be enough.