Page 25 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

Irritated because I thought they were all asleep, I stop myself just before I heave the pillow back.

As I’m trying to think of a response that won’t get me tossed into a cell, Ayan mumbles, “What’s wrong, Your Highness—ground too hard? Breeze too cold? Royal bedroll not plushy enough?”

“No, it’sClover,” Lawrence complains.

“What did I do?” she demands.

“You talked all night,” Ayan answers for Lawrence with an exaggerated groan.

Clover sits up in her bedroll.

“I most certainly did not—” she cuts herself off, looking around the camp. “Where are the gnomes?”

I sit up as well. Sure enough, our numbers are down by two.

“They must have left before dawn,” I say.

Clover doesn’t respond, but she looks disappointed. She scans the surrounding landscape, likely searching for unusually shaped boulders.

Shoving aside my bedroll, I pull on my boots. I then nudge Bartholomew with my foot, certain my squire is only pretending to be asleep at this point. “Since we’re up, let’s get moving.”

“He’s an ambitious one, isn’t he?” Ayan says to no one in particular.

“They don’t call him ‘Henrik the Eager’ for nothing,” Lawrence mutters.

“No one calls me that,” I say sharply.

“Sure they do. People call you all sorts of things.” Lawrence smirks into his bedroll. “Just not to your face.”

* * *

The sun is just sinkinginto the sea when we finally reach Heistone, turning the clouds above the horizon a deep, fiery red. The city lamps are lit, fueled by the internal oil reserves that flow through underground channels thanks to Vallen ingenuity.

In the last hundred years, the port city has outgrown its borders, and it now stretches far past the original stone walls.

The older section of Heistone, built by the High Vales, is at the center, atop a slight incline that looks over the harbor, predominated by elven-built structures with sleek spires and graceful curves. The buildings outside of the city walls are a conglomeration of styles. While many are Vallenesque, others are reminiscent of the sturdy, heavy-timbered architecture favored by the humans in our ancestral home of Calendria. But most are a combination of both, and because of it, the city looks like a jewel box, with red, green, and blue roofs. It lends an interesting feel to the fastest-growing city in Caldenbauer.

People from other kingdoms and regions have immigrated here, and not just humans, but elves as well—the Lae Ellettes from the icy islands of Serlin, the scholarly Prendoras from the mountainous region of Tavenglow, and the Songtamsuns, from the eastern kingdom of Saosan.

The elves have different customs, being neither Woodmore nor High Vale. Like our native elves, however, their magic usually falls into the offensive or defensive range.

“It’s too late to find a ship tonight,” Lawrence says as we ride into the heavily populated commercial district of the old city.

People pay us little attention as we pass through the streets. Lawrence wears his cloak’s hood up, hiding his circlet and concealing his identity.

We’re near the ports, on a street that’s packed with inns, taverns, and bakeries. Food peddlers call their wares to the many tourists as they push their carts down the old, cobbled streets, and music and laughter pour from propped-open doors.

It's a little warmer here since we’ve dropped to sea level, with only a moderate evening chill. The air, however, cools quickly. By morning, frost could line the glass of the well-to-do establishments that have windowpanes fitted in their buildings.

Several large, paddle-driven passenger ships rest in the harbor, some waiting to tour the sea and Ryddleport and others bound to head lower, where they’ll skirt Dulane’s vineyard-rich coast.

There are sailed ships as well. Those travel farther, going between the known kingdoms, many returning from or embarking on voyages that may take a month or even a season to complete.

“We have an estate in the city,” the prince continues. “We’ll stay there tonight and figure out our travel plans tomorrow.”

Left with no choice but to follow the prince’s lead, I stay quiet even though Algernon put me in charge of the rescue, andIshould be the one to decide where we stay and when we stay there. There’s no use arguing tonight, however. We’ve had a long day of travel, and we’re all road weary. Royal accommodations will be more comfortable than the city barracks, where we would have likely ended up if Bartholomew, Pranmore, and I had been traveling alone.

Lawrence takes us to the northern, residential area of the city, where grand estates stand, surrounded by large, formal gardens. The properties are fenced with trimmed hedges, and the formal plantings within are based on geometrical patterns, many with fountains at their heart.

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