Blackgrove was the greenest place Jen had seen in Gryst by a wide margin. It was still more dry and arid than she would have thought possible back home, but even before they arrived in town she could feel things were different here. The earth wasn’t alive, not exactly. But there was some faint, fading warmth still left in it. After weeks traveling empty, dusty desert, finding somewhere that more closely resembled a scrubland felt like a miracle.

  They even had farms, sparse as they were. Fields of wheat surrounded the town, dry and thin but growing hardily. She could see townspeople tending to them as she walked along the road. They were diligent and careful, but Jen saw in them an anxiety she hadn’t seen since the year Verdane’s crops were threatened by blight. It wasn’t a surprise the farmers were worried about the health of their crops in a place like this, but it was still sad. Fearing for your fields as a constant fact of life, rather than a temporary condition in a particularly bad year, would be a horribly stressful way to live.

  The road into town was an easy walk. Well-trafficked, since the grain got shipped out to other cities on a regular basis, which meant the dust was compacted and didn’t fill the air the same way it did most other places. Jen was surprised by how crisp every breath felt, and she could almost swear there was a little tickle of mana in the back of her throat. Curious, she tried calling forth a tiny bit of magic, but it slipped through her fingers, like trying to hold the fog in her hand. She sighed softly, wistful and a little homesick, yet oddly comforted. At least there was some magic to be found, buried in the nearly-arable dirt, floating gently in the air around her.

  Looking around at the fields of wheat, at the homely, rustic town ahead, Jen couldn’t help smiling. It was still a dusty, brown place, but it was more of a… golden-brown. A little warmer. Metaphorically warmer, of course, the whole country was too damn hot, but still. It was nice.

  “This seems like a lovely place,” Jen commented, glancing at a rough little shed they were passing. It was crudely made, probably constructed by one of the farmers to hold their tools, but clean enough she could tell it was cared for in its own way.

  “Does it?” Marcie asked. “I mean, it’s a perfectly fine town, don’t get me wrong, I’m just not sure what makes it so nice your first thought is to say somethin’ about it.” She looked around them and considered. “Oh. Is it the farms and stuff? That doin’ it for ya?”

  “Well, to an extent, I suppose,” Jen said. “I do miss plants.”

  “You’re really into trees and junk, huh?” Marcie was making fun of her, just a little.

  “I like trees a normal amount,” Jen insisted. “If anything I took them for granted. I didn’t realize how much I appreciated them until the only thing growing for miles were some scraggly cactuses.” She shook her head, still feeling that pang of nostalgia. “But yes, I do miss them. I think that’s a normal thing to miss.”

  “Well, it’s not like there’s nothing that grows. You find little farming towns like this here and there. Places where the soil’s a bit better than normal, so people do their best to farm it. Mostly wheat and corn and beans. I hear they even get some grapes and olives up north, near the capital.” Marcie was struggling to hold back her fidgety nature. Even her tail was carefully tucked away under her cloak and coiled around her waist. It had taken Jen a while to pick up on it, but it made Marcie uncomfortable, having to put so much effort into hiding herself from sight. And much as Jen wished it wasn’t, that effort was probably necessary. Calling Marcie distinctive would be an understatement. “I guess this is the first time we’ve passed through any farmland, huh? S’pose I can see how it’d be a welcome change of pace. But it puts me a little on edge. Farms’ve gotta get food to folks ‘round the kingdom, so there’s never not somebody with their eyes on ‘em.”

  “Yes, I guess there would have to be. We’ll keep our heads down, then, and try not to make a stir before we leave.” Marcie had to cover herself up, but Jen was happy to help her stay unnoticed by being more outgoing. She’d cut her hair down to a bit less than shoulder length, and her natural color was finally starting to come back, leaving it a mottled sort of dirty-blonde. A few weeks of travel, walking in the sun and sleeping on the road, had given her a slight tan, and though she knew she had a pretty face, without any makeup or access to beauty care of any kind she looked like any other person. She had found a nice, ruffled blouse a few towns back, and gotten herself a pair of leather pants she thought complemented her hips quite nicely, so she made enough of an impression nobody thought much about the cloaked introvert standing next to her. But no one was going to mistake her for a Princess. Certainly not the pale, blushing beauty engaged to their Prince.

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” Marcie muttered. “Gonna be best for both of us to get outta Gryst, I think, at least for a while. It’ll suck being away from home but I don’t gotta keep digging the hole deeper.”

  Jen smiled at her sympathetically. She’d seen how high the bounty had climbed on her wanted posters. Enough chips that even Marcie had to admit getting out and laying low were her only options. They were traveling alone, moving slowly and quietly to avoid drawing any attention to themselves, but it was only a matter of time before Cornelius or his father caught up with them. And while Jen wasn’t fully happy about it, their best hope was to get back to Verdane and convince her father his arrangement with Gryst was a mistake. He wouldn’t be pleased with her, but she would make him understand what she had seen Cornelius do. Why they couldn’t afford to placate him or King Harmon. And then she’d make sure Marcie had amnesty, and a safe place to land in Verdane, away from the bounty and the trouble they’d made for themselves. It was the least Jen could do for her, after all of this.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Come on, then,” Jen said. “We won’t waste too much time. There isn’t much light left, so let’s find somewhere we can eat and spend the night and then we’ll set out in the morning.” She held out her hand and slipped it into Marcie’s.

  Marcie glanced away. Even with her face hidden, Jen could tell she was being bashful. “Yeah,” she muttered. “That sounds fine.” A moment passed and then she said, “You… probably shouldn’t do that. Folks’ll see our hands next to each other and realize I’m, y’know.”

  “I suppose they could.” Jen gently tugged on Marcie’s arm, making her take a few steps closer until they were walking side-to-side. Then Jen pressed Marcie’s hand against her own side, covering it almost fully between her hand and her leg, so that it would be hard for anyone passing by to actually see what Marcie’s hand looked like. “And now they won’t. This seems like an easier solution to me.”

  “I really don’t think it is,” Marcie replied in a low but resigned voice. “If y’think so, though. I guess I won’t… argue or nothin’. You can do what you want.”

  There was only one main street through Blackgrove, with most of the town’s population spread out across the farmland surrounding it, individual families living in individual homes watching over their own personal lot of grain. The town center was a collection of businesses and government buildings that served the residents and any travelers who came by. Walking through, Jen and Marcie passed a general store and a farming supply shop that sold tools and fertilizer imported from Verdane. There were a couple of small bars, a smaller jailhouse, and towards the southern end of town, a larger building that served as both town hall and local schoolhouse.

  Most of the buildings they passed were no larger than they needed to be. A bank that only expected to serve a handful of people at any given time didn’t need a terrible amount of floorspace, and the bars that catered towards locals only needed to worry about seating maybe a few dozen men at once. Other than the town hall, the large buildings were the ones that most catered to the needs of travelers–the general store and, on the southernmost edge of town, the restaurant and inn any stranger looking to spend the night would inevitably find themselves inside.

  It was called "The Black Boar"--a black boar in a black grove, Jen supposed, though a well-camouflaged boar didn't really sound like something you'd want in your grove–and it was already seeing some traffic, with a couple of men hitching their horses to the front and heading inside. It was a two-story building with an only slightly rickety balcony around the upper level and a raised porch along the front. While some businesses in town had elected to puff up their silhouette by building an additional facade on the fronts, the inn had a wide triangular roof painted a muted blue, with the sides of the building done in a low-key greyish off-white. It stood out from the rest of the street, which largely presented woody browns and earth tones, but the unpainted porch and balcony did have some of that rustic charm to them. All in all Jen thought it should be a good enough place to stay for a short while, and after spending the last few days walking through the badlands she looked forward to getting off her feet for a night.

  When they approached the inn Jen could feel Marcie tensing up next to her. It was the busiest place in town this time of day, and the last thing they needed was more eyes on them. But they needed to restock and prepare for the journey to their next destination–an independent garrison about 40 miles to the south where they could join a caravan and travel to the border. Sleeping in the street or asking around for a room in someone’s home would be far more conspicuous than hiding away in an inn room, so they had to risk it.

  But Jen still didn’t like seeing Marcie all tensed up about it. She was so calm and steady in the face of danger, but just being around people was enough to make her surly and withdrawn. Jen couldn’t imagine the kind of stress that would make someone like her so miserable. So she owed it to Marcie to stay confident and in control around the public. That way she wouldn’t have to worry about them.

  “At least we’re getting in early,” Jen said, reassuring Marcie with a quick squeeze of her hand before letting her go. “We’ll go to bed early and dodge the evening rush. I know you’re not fond of crowds.”

  “I’d put it more like crowds ain’t fond of me,” Marcie said dryly, slipping her hand away under her cloak.

  They walked up the stairs in front of the inn, past the hitching posts where a handful of horses were dozing off or drinking from the water trough. Out the corner of her eye Jen spotted a little splash of bright orange against the banister of the guardrail. “Oh,” she gasped softly, and she leaned down to carefully scoop a tiny lizard onto the back of her hand. “Marcie, Marcie,” she whispered. “Look at this fine little fellow.”

  Marcie stopped in place, and she did turn to look at the fine little fellow. “Aw,” she said, softening despite herself. “That’s a little fella.” She reached out and ran a single finger gently over his head, petting him softly while he stood frozen perfectly stock still.

  “I think he likes you,” Jen said playfully.

  “Ah. He’s probably just super spooked by the big-ass people manhandlin’ him.” Marcie carefully took him off Jen’s hand. “Here you go. It’s all right, fella, we ain’t gonna hurt you, promise.” She set him back on top of the handrail with a gentleness and delicacy she only showed when it was truly necessary. “He’s a nice li'l guy, though. Fond of him. Glad he came to visit.”

  The lizard stared into the distance unmoving for another three seconds before suddenly bolting down the bannister and vanishing.

  Jen glanced over to look at Marcie's face under her hood. She was smiling goofily, all traces of the anxiety she'd been holding in momentarily absent. It was a charming expression, and Jen couldn’t help giggling a little, pleased with herself.

  "What?" Marcie asked, turning her head, her smile turning into a curious frown.

  "I'm sorry," Jen said. "I just thought that was really sweet. You're a sweetheart, Marcie."

  It took her a moment to decide how to interpret that, but Marcie eventually took on the wry smile of a long-suffering partner. She chuckled softly and shook her head in resignation. "I don't get you sometimes, Jen."

  "That's all right. You don't need to." Jen patted the top of Marcie's head playfully. "Whether you get it or not doesn't change the fact that you're sweet."

  "Uh-huh," Marcie said, clearly not buying it. "Are we gonna go inside or what?"

  "Yes, yes, all right." Jen climbed the last few steps and opened the front door, holding it for Marcie. "Ladies first."

  "Aren't we both ladies?" Marcie muttered as she walked past Jen. "How're you supposed to decide? Is there some kinda competition I didn’t know about?"

  "Of course there is," Jen said playfully, letting the door shut behind her as she stepped into the building. "Don't worry, though. You're winning."

  "Somehow that makes me worry more."