Page 54 of The Lost Princess

Being human did come with a lot of extra things. I’d never noticed it before. There was nothing for it. I would have to just rely on the loyalty and kindness of strangers.

I began my walk toward the dirt path, which wound toward the first row of houses and transition to cobblestone the closer I got to the castle. The dirt was hot underneath my human feet, but I couldn’t shift. My inner draken was unhappy inside me; she didn’t feel safe. It was odd to feel such unease in my own kingdom. Though to be fair, I’d never been out on its streets a day in my life.

As I approached the rows of houses, the city came to life around me. Children darted in front of me, heedless of the danger of the larger wagons passing by and intent on their game. Mothers flitted here and there, gossiping in small groups and sometimes running after an errant child. Babies were slung across their backs with large pieces of cloth. They all wore long robes, light and breezy. Perfect for staying cool yet keeping the sun and sand out of their faces and bodies.

It was loud. It was chaotic.

It was beautiful.

Was this everyday life?

I cringed slightly as the crowd enveloped me, but no one recognized me. No one paid me attention. A few shot me leering looks, but at a growl from my inner draken, they slunk away.

Huh. None of the men at my father’s court had ever taken a hint so well.

I got a few odd looks here and there from the women whose eyes lingered on my form with distant pity, but no one stopped me. No one asked any questions, pointed, or yelled.

I’d never felt more at home in my life.

Once I adjusted to the hustle and bustle, I noticed other things. The tense air around the market place, the cries of frustration when a vendor charged more and more for what scarce food was available. A hungry child cried somewhere, hurriedly shushed by its mother.

I closed my eyes, trying focus. I could only manage one issue at a time.

“Excuse me, where might I find some clothing?” I grabbed a young girl by her sleeve, too intimidated to stop and ask one of the women. Her eyes went wide as they took me in, and she snatched her hand back, wiping it on her dress. A smudge of brown appeared.

“Over there.” She pointed to a market stall, and ran off as soon as I turned my head. I glanced down at my hands, frowning. They were covered in dirt and mud. No wonder no one recognized me! I grabbed the end of my braid, also dingy and dirty from my journey.

My skin didn’t shine. My hair appeared dull. I was officially undercover.

The realization was freeing.

I stepped up to the market stall, finding an old man tending it. His hair and beard were white and neatly trimmed, with only a few strands of black still hanging on for dear life. The top of his head was wrapped with a scarf. His robe was wildly colorful, clearly homemade with uneven stitches and patches here and there. Languidly, he dozed on a wooden stool against the wall, his head back and mouth open. He startled badly when I approached, trying in vain to smooth out the wrinkles in his robe. He adjusted his head covering and looked me up and down.

“You! You need a dress!”

I resisted the urge to laugh, but gave him a smile. “Yes. Though, I can’t pay you now. I will offer double the price if I can pay tomorrow.” I paused. “Or a tour of the castle: your choice.”

The old man’s eyes went wide. “You work there?”

I shrugged. “In a way.”

His eyes expertly combed me head to toe. He turned his back on me, enthusiastically disappearing behind a pile of fabric behind him. He emerged with a yelp of glee minutes later, a bright topaz and amethyst garment clutched in his fingers.

“I knew it was here somewhere! This will match your eyes splendidly.”

I slipped the garment over top of my skirt and breast band since it was still pretty sheer. The gauze fabric fluttered softly around me, covering my arms and legs but billowing out to leave me plenty of room to move. It was comfortable and beautiful and reminded me of what I’d seen the other women wearing.

I glanced up at him as he eyed me with anticipation.

“You said something about the castle?” He reminded me.

I blinked. “Ah, yes. Of course. I was on my way now. Would you like to come?”

With more speed than someone his age should display, he dropped a wooden panel down over his shop, covering it from view and latching it closed.

“Come come! The day wastes its light on those who tarry.” He shot out in front of me and I followed behind at a more sedate pace, my hand over my mouth to cover my grin.

The man took the lead, dodging the crowds expertly and guiding me in the most direct path to the castle. “I didn’t catch your name,” he called lightly over his shoulders.

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