Page 116 of The Kingdom of Flames

Celestine didn’t answer.

“The carriage can take us, Lady Celestine.”

“No,” she answered. “I will ride to Calendar, not be drawn forth like baggage.”

Aidric, the masked Captain of Calendar, nodded and waited. After a time, they sat astride their horses and walked them along the grand road to Calendar.

“What has happened while I have been gone these last months?” Celestine asked Aidric.

“Summer has reigned, my lady. The other lords await their turn with the final bride, some more eager than others.”

Celestine’s thoughts flashed to Vermilion. The pale predatory Lord of Spring. How his moans of torment had sounded those deep nights when she snuck out to ease his suffering.

“I am told… the summer harvest has been good for the people of the Painted Realm. Though there have been conflicts between martial forces, they have been organized instead of rabble-rousing. Trade is up in some sordid places. For a time, the Painted Realm turned to subjugation for forced labor, but that did end after a few decrees. Many babes have been born this Summer, and women have left the locked clasps of the houses meant to protect them as riders and soldiers patrol the lands hunting outlaws.”

Encarmine.

“It is also said many horses have been bred along the estates of the Painted Realm, my lady. Such an abundance that even children are learning to ride.”

As Celestine rode with Aidric, she felt a closeness to him. “Thank you, Captain. For saving me at Suncrown.”

“It was necessary, my lady. Lord Solis overstepped. It is important nothing happens to you. Lest the War of the Seasons continues.”

“Do you have a preference, Captain, of whom would sit where? Who would rule and order the others around?”

“I do not, Lady Celestine. Though balance would be paramount. The rules of the contest say that you can choose, at any end of season. You could pick a lord of summer.”

“And if I do not…”

“Your courtship continues,” Aidric finished for her. The Captain rode in perfect discipline, reins held perfectly in a silver gauntleted hand. “As designed. You will taste each of the dozen banners.

There is a strange magic to him, to all of Calendar. But he seems the focal point.

“You are not mortal, are you?” Celestine asked as they rode. On the left side of the road, the sun shone brightly across great fields of grass. On the right, it was another world. A beautiful and golden brown twisted forest, the hush of autumn beckoned her with its chill.

“I am a Captain of Calendar,” Aidric stated, his mirrored mask staring at the road ahead. She took in the figure of him. Large, stocky. Almost like one of the Lords of Season… almost.

“How did you come to serve Calendar?”

“I have always served, for I have always been.”

“Been what?”

Aidric continued riding, not looking at her. “Needed.”

There wasn’t more she could get from Captain Aidric than that. No portion of his skin showed underneath the dark clothing, polished mirror armor, or mask. How he saw, how he drank or ate, if he needed to, was a mystery.

That night, they made camp on the side of autumn. Celestine welcomed the change, the campfire giving more warmth against the chill of the falling temperature. Around her, leaves fell, trees shed their seed and finery.

Aidric fed her bread and meat. He stood upright, back to her, a tall, silvered spear in his hand, scanning the darkness.

“What do you keep watch for?”

“To keep his dark eyes from you, Lady Celestine. And others. Those that hunger. Many would see the Final Bride in a hunt instead of a courtship.”

“Whose dark eyes?”

“The most terrible of them. The one that always watches.” Aidric did not turn.

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