FORGOTTEN ORCHIDS | CHAPTER TWO
WHEN ATTICUS FINISHED HIS WORK, it was barely noon, the sun in the sky beating down on Vulpesterra with an intensity that had Atticus wishing his kingdom had been built closer to the ocean, if only to be given an excuse to dive into the cool water after a long morning of paperwork.
(It was his own fault, of course—voluntarily waking up at dawn was one of his less-loved habits.)
Of course, given that the sun only warmed Vulpesterra for a few hours before the cold settled in, the typical nature of the land, Atticus supposed it was for the best that he didn't give himself a chance to freeze to death.
Atticus took the rare time of peace to tend to his personal garden—an abundance of roses and lilacs, vines that spilled over the sides of his balcony, a single torch flower in the center of the mess of nature—that the people in his kingdom could only get a glimpse of. He wasn't sure when exactly he had made room for blue orchids, but once he was done watering he realized that the space where they would go was barren, strikingly bare amid the mess.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Atticus looked up, gazing in the direction of the Cod Empire. He could just barely see the buildings of the empire on the horizon, hazy from the distance between him and them. He brushed his hands against his pants, dusting the skin of any dirt, and pushed himself to his feet with his mind made up—he would make the hour-long journey to the Cod Empire for those blue orchids, and he would not return without them.
Unless the Codfather said no. Then Atticus would leave without the flowers.
Thomas was ready for Atticus when he arrived at the carriage carrying a shulker box, though the man was always ready for Atticus to take a spontaneous trip—always telling Atticus he needed to get out more and see the world, travel to other empires and make friends with people his own age. Well, this wasn't a mission to make a friend, but Atticus supposed he could play nice if it would get him what he wanted.
Atticus had never traveled to the Cod Empire before. It was a land that bordered his own, but it had never been a priority to visit. The Codfather had never made himself an enemy, so Atticus hadn't felt the need to make himself one in return. He began to regret that mindset the closer he got to the Cod Empire; there was a decent chance that he would be turned away after making his request, if only because it was so ridiculous, and while Atticus had observed the Codfather at the House Blossom meetings, it didn't mean his assumptions of the man were correct.
"You can stop at the border," Atticus said to Thomas as the empire in front of them became clearer. "From what I hear, the land isn't big. I believe Farmer Pearl once said that you can take a five-minute walk from one end to the other."
Thomas tutted, though he began to reign in the horses. "Well, it's not polite to gossip about other empires."
Atticus wrinkled his nose. "I wasn't gossiping. I had nothing to say in return and I never asked her what the Cod Empire had to offer."
"Still, Foxling. It's not nice."
Atticus rolled his eyes as Thomas brought the carriage to a halt. There was a woman at the border in armor, fish scales golden against her cheeks and above her eyes to display her status as a fish hybrid. She seemed surprised to see Atticus step off the carriage but kept her composure as she approached from the guard outpost. Atticus found the building pointless since there were no walls around the Cod Empire, leaving it open to an attack.
"State your business," the woman ordered. Atticus had to wonder how many visitors the Codfather got if his guards weren't friendly. Then again, Atticus wasn't a familiar face.
"I'm the King of Vulpesterra," Atticus said. The woman's eyes widened slightly, her grip on her spear tightening. "I've come to request a meeting with the Codfather—if he's available?"
For the first time, Atticus thought about the possibility of the Codfather being busy. He supposed he was used to some of the other rulers having an abundance of time on their hands, enough to be able to bother Atticus whenever they wanted to, but that didn't mean every ruler had people to do their paperwork for them.
The guard nodded once, stepping back. "Wait here. I'll let the Codfather know you're here." Atticus nodded, offering her a tight smile that fell once she hurried away. He could feel pairs of eyes on him, following his moves as he looked around the watchtower—no doubt citizens who had heard his declaration and were wondering what another ruler was doing in their lands.
He noticed the blue orchids immediately, the soft blue petals fluttering in the wind, green stems pushing the flowers closer to the sun. Despite his nerves, Atticus let himself smile, having to resist the urge to pick the flowers now. He needed to look them over and inspect which ones were able to be picked without dying in the next week. If Atticus was careful enough, he could care for the flowers for a month before they began to decay due to the colder environment of Vulpesterra.
Hurried footsteps reached his ears. Atticus turned and found the Codfather in front of him, the man's eyes darting nervously between Atticus and the carriage behind him. He seemed to be resisting the urge to wring his hands together as he stopped in front of Atticus, instead choosing to wipe his palms onto his pants. Atticus gave him the same tight smile he'd offered the guard, who was now returning to her post on the other side of the tower.
"What can I do for you, Foxling?" the Codfather asked. Atticus was surprised to hear the lower pitch his voice took—perhaps he was somehow less nervous when meeting with Atticus than he was in the truce meetings.
"I would like to discuss a trade deal between Vulpesterra and the Cod Empire," Atticus said simply, deciding not to beat around the bush.
The Codfather's eyes widened in surprise before his brows furrowed in confusion. "Vulpesterra doesn't do alliances," he pointed out with a frown. Atticus smiled slightly, impressed that the Codfather had actually listened to him during the meetings.
"It's not an alliance, it's a trade deal," Atticus explained. "Vulpesterra would not go to war for the Cod Empire just because we're trading, just as we would not go to war for Gilded Helianthia or Pixandria."
Atticus did not miss the disappointed expression that passed over the Codfather's face before it passed, the man nodding as he understood. Atticus was impressed with the lack of protest, all too used to hearing that an alliance would be better for his kingdom—from his council, from the other rulers, and even from some concerned citizens. It was nice to not be questioned for once.
"I can agree to a trade deal," the Codfather decided. "How much slime would you like for your kingdom?"
"Ah," Atticus said, remembering that the Cod Empire specialized in slime exports. "None. I would like blue orchids." He internally cringed at himself, realizing how absurd the request sounded when said out loud.
". . . Blue orchids?" the Codfather asked as if he had misheard Atticus.
Atticus nodded sharply. "They're my favorite flower, but they can only grow in swamps. Vulpesterra is too cold to grow most flowers so this would be a monthly deal. I will personally come to pick the flowers," he explained, trying not to stumble over his words. He swore he could hear Thomas trying not to laugh at him.
"You— you could just pick the flowers without punishment. We don't need a trade deal for that," the Codfather said, looking further confused by the second.
"That wouldn't be fair," Atticus said simply, though, really, they were just flowers. He supposed he was used to Lady Katherine wanting more in exchange for her own. Now that he had a deal with her, it wouldn't be fair to deprive the Codfather of the same. "I offer a trade of spruce and dark oak wood, as I see that's what you use for your buildings," he said, nodding to the watchtower as his example.
There was a moment of silence, broken by the sound of the ocean lapping at the shores of the empire. Atticus had truly never realized how small the Cod Empire was—it wasn't even half the size of Vulpesterra and couldn't compare to the size of the Grimlands. It was closer in size to Rivendell, surely. To be fair, the Codfather was a newer ruler, only serving for a few years—and with two other empires on its borders, the Cod Empire hardly had room to expand without starting a war. Atticus could admit that the smaller space probably made ruling easier; getting to know his citizens must have been a breeze for the Codfather. Atticus was almost jealous.
"I agree to the deal," the Codfather finally said.
Atticus brightened, smiling at the Codfather and offering his hand to shake. The Codfather accepted the offer, sealing their deal in everything but paperwork.
"I have the woods now if you'll accept me choosing which flowers to take home," Atticus offered, glancing at the blue plants only a few feet away. The Codfather nodded, still looking puzzled by the whole ordeal.
Atticus turned and walked back toward his carriage, nodding to Thomas, who smiled at him. Atticus grabbed the shulker box he'd brought out that morning and carried it over to the Codfather, who hurried over to take it from Atticus as though worried he would take offense that he didn't. Atticus let him grab it despite the light weight due to the nature of shulker magic.
Atticus didn't say another word, walking over to the flowers and kneeling on the ground to look them over. As he got closer, he could catch the minor differences that someone casually picking the orchids wouldn't notice—the lighter colors that showed an earlier stage of the plant's life, and the slight wilting of the tallest orchids, and even the yellowing leaves of the flowers that have been fully bloomed for a while now, the green barely beginning to lighten. An untrained eye would have picked any of these, but Atticus was not unversed.
The lighter petals would be tempting to a new gardener; Atticus would have made the same mistake, but he knew that taking a flower from its roots so early into his life would lead to it wilting faster than one that was already beginning to droop. So he settled his eyes on a patch of flowers that were darker blue, the petals still looking up to the sky to soak in the afternoon sun.
Atticus reached for them, digging his fingers into the soil so he didn't rip the stem from the roots. Though the flower wouldn't survive the full month due to the cold weather of Vulpesterra, that didn't mean Atticus had to take the plant from its home without some source of familiarity.
With great care, Atticus gathered three more orchids, stopping himself from picking any more. While he would have loved to take every orchid he saw, he knew he had to leave them behind—both for the environment and if he wanted there to be any left for next month.
Atticus stood and turned, carefully not to step on any flowers as he made his way back to the Codfather. He caught the taller man smiling at him, a soft look that nearly stopped Atticus in his tracks out of surprise; he wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone other than Jane smile at him like he'd done something good.
Despite himself, Atticus began to smile back until his eyes caught movement behind the Codfather, his gaze flicking over to Lord Sausage of Mythland as the man walked up to the Codfather's side. The Codfather noticed the shift in Atticus' expression, the annoyance that took over his features, and turned to face Sausage. Atticus didn't see his expression, but he hoped it was one of annoyance as well.
"Lord Sausage," the Codfather greeted, voice strained. "We had an agreement. You're tresspassing on the lands of the Cod Empire."
Agreement? Atticus wondered.
Sausage gave the empire a once over, unimpressed. "It's not much of an empire at all," he commented, seeming smug as the Codfather took a step back.
Atticus resisted the urge to clench his hands into fists, reminding himself that the flowers were even more vulnerable than before—and Sausage would love to see what effect he had on Atticus' anger, eager to see Atticus falter at least once. Atticus would not give him the pleasure.
He stepped closer to them, keeping his chin up. Sausage smiled at him all too warmly. "Ah, Foxling. I noticed you were visiting and wanted to say hello."
Atticus tried not to bite the inside of his cheek as he forced himself to nod. "Hello," he said simply before turning his gaze onto the Codfather. The Codfather smiled, too tense for it to be real. "I look forward to our deal." The Codfather nodded quickly, his shoulders relaxing only slightly. Atticus glanced at Sausage with a frown, not sure he wanted to leave the Codfather with someone who was known to poke fun at him.
"Thank you, Foxling. I'll see you in a month," the Codfather said, an apparent dismissal. But not so clear when the Codfather's expression was begging Atticus to stay, brows drew together in a troubled look that had Atticus doubting he wasn't wanted.
"I would like for you to tour my empire as I've toured yours," Atticus blurted, trying to keep his voice even, hoping he was convincing enough to Sausage. It didn't help that the Codfather's expression immediately turned confused, nearly exposing Atticus' lie.
Atticus gave him a meaningful look, the universal sign of Go with it, idiot! that the Codfather should have been used to recieving.
"Ah," the Codfather said, nodding. "Yes. That would be nice. For our, uh, agreement," he stammered. Atticus gave him a tight smile, deciding not to comment on the man's improv skills.
Sausage cleared his throat, catching the attention of both of them. His brows were furrowed in annoyance. "You should tour Mythland as well if you've toured one of your neighbors already," he said, trying to keep his tone sweet. Atticus didn't know if it was his bias toward Sausage or if he was just too untrusting, but he felt like he could see right through Sausage's act.
Atticus smiled back at Sausage with just as much fake sweetness. "No, thank you," he said, turning to the Codfather once more. He gave the taller man one more smile—a real one this time, Atticus was sure, reminding himself of the smile the Codfather had given him after he'd picked the orchids—before walking away, a bad feeling settling in his stomach.
A lack of alliances would keep Atticus out of a war, but if that war was between the two lands that boardered his own . . .