Lost Identity: Eloria Series Book 1 | ✓

28: Watchful Eyes

"Let's review names of kings and their countries again while we have the time, shall we?" Stanjah said as the carriage lurched forward.

I cleared my throat a little before I began. "Rit, the leader of the Olourians of the Empire of Olouri. Udi, leader of the Driars of the Nation of Hnid."

"Good." Stanjah sounded pleased. "Can you give a general description of each country?"

"Olouri is in the south-western hemisphere, south of Ankinia. They like to follow tradition—lots of bowing and gestures that represent satisfaction, distaste—"

"And how will you greet King Rit?"

"Modest bow with my hands palm-to-palm." I demonstrated, with my hands close to my chest.

"It's called the grace gesture—fingers pointing up, and hands further away from your chest," she said, repositioning my hands. "You only hold your hands close to your chest if you are indebted, the visitor, or of lower status."

Ien soldiers formed a barricade between us and the crowd. Men, women, and children flanked us from the sidelines, trying to catch a glimpse of the spectacle as we passed.

I waved at the crowd, then looked at Stanjah to see if she was doing the same—she wasn't. "Am I supposed to wave or not?" I asked.

She looked at me with an incredulous expression. "Why would you wave?"

There was no point in smiling at the citizens since my face was covered. I dropped my hand on my lap and stared out at the excited citizens.

Several minutes passed before I felt it.

My heart rate increased, and my senses were heightened. At first, I told myself to relax and that I was just anxious because of the crowd, but I couldn't shake the feeling. I acknowledged that the crowd was watching, but I felt a strong feeling that there was one set of watchful eyes that saw through my veil to my soul.

I looked left and right, trying to catch the person or find the reason for why I felt so shaken. Then, I saw a tall man with black hair tied back into a tail at my two o'clock. His dark eyes looked straight into mine. I knew it was impossible for him to see what was underneath the veil, but the feeling was so overwhelming, like going from dry to unmistakably drenched after you plunge into a lake.

He sees me.

My breath quickened.

Then, someone else in the crowd caught my attention. A woman with a head of mostly gray hair had snuck past the soldiers and gotten on to the main road. She ran toward my side of the carriage holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in patterned paper. I stood up, hunched over the carriage barrier and took the bouquet from the woman just before the soldiers grabbed her.

"Thank you!" I shouted.

"What are you doing?" Stanjah gawked at me, seemingly appalled by what I had done.

"She went out of her way to give me flowers—the least I could do was thank her," I said, sitting back down.

Stanjah turned away from me with her nose turned up.

I couldn't care less about how she felt—in fact, it was sort of satisfying to see how much a kind gesture irritated her. Our carriage neared the spot where the man was standing. I scanned the crowd as we passed, searching for him, but he was gone.

I tried to ignore my sense of premonition by rationalizing in my mind that the energy of the crowd was responsible.

Relax, Ellis. Relax.

I looked down to admire the vibrant yellow roses in my hands. Among the bouquet of yellow, a single, bright crimson flower caught my eye. I pulled out the curious flower and saw that the head of the flower bud was attached to a stick, and that around the stick was a thin strip of paper wrapped around it.

A note!

Stanjah was still facing the other way so I unraveled the note from the stem and shoved the crimson flower back in the bouquet while concealing the note within my long sleeves. I lowered my head to read.

The note read:

Look inside. Keep it secret.

I peeked in the bouquet and spotted a palm-sized brown paper packet with something weighted inside. Hastily, I reached in and pulled it out, then shoved it into my pocket without examining it.

"Sye-Liene," Stanjah said, facing me.

I held my breath. Had she seen me reach for the packet? "Yes?"

"Stop fiddling with that bouquet—people are watching us," she snapped.

I pressed my back against the seat, and grinned.