Thunder and Buzzard's hooves pounded the same dirt roads I'd taken days earlier to return to the palace. The two day journey felt infinitely longer. I longed to be with my soldiers, and to rid Calidonica of Vydon's viper of a queen.
Long days of riding were more exhausting than people realized. My inner thighs burned, and my back ached.
"You're too young to have these aches and pains," Cisco said, watching me stretch my back at the end of the first day of travel.
I shrugged. "They're temporary. My body is already healing them."
"Not fair," Cisco said, already unstrapping Thunder's saddle. "I have so many unsightly scars. I bet there isn't a single blemish on your skin from that tree."
I stopped unpacking my sleep sack and rations from Buzzard's saddle bag, my hands trembling. "It's not fair. And unnatural. I should have died ten times over."
Cisco settled Thunder's saddle in the grass and sat down next to it, his rations in hand. "Have you ever healed anyone you wish you'd let die?" It was a quiet question that tore through my mind like a savage beast.
"Once. A favorite general of Baruuk's was infamous for his sadistic practices. Tormented civilians. When one of them mortally wounded him, Baruuk forced me to heal him."
"Baruuk is disgusting." His food seemed to taste bitter as he swallowed. "I can't imagine witnessing that as a child."
"That was the first time I felt a true pang of hatred for Baruuk."
"How did it feel to realize that abuse was a practice he perpetrated on a grand scale, not just something he did to you and Hetty?"
"Baruuk has never laid a hand on me," I was quick to say. The knowledge that Baruuk treated me like a princess while he brutalized my sister made me sick. He gave me everything I could ever want or need, made me stronger than I ever could be without his guidance. He gave me power and authority. Yet he crushed Hetty underfoot like a bug.
Cisco leaned in, looking deep into my eyes. "You know there are many forms of abuse, don't you?"
I scowled. To even consider that the pain he caused me was anything akin to what he put Hetty through was insulting. "Hetty is the only one of us Baruuk abused. I've lived as a princess in this kingdom. I refuse to call that abuse."
"Not all wounds are physical," he murmured.
The sun hadn't set yet, yet I hunkered down into my sleep sack. I couldn't allow Cisco to see the emotion tearing through me that I knew I could not hide. I couldn't equate what Baruuk had done to me to what he'd done to Hetty. Nothing about our lives was similar. Hetty lived in a dungeon, never seeing the light of day.
So many times she told me she wished she could see the sky again, that she could smell flowers, and feel rain against her skin. Her caretaker, the kind older woman who had raised both of us after our mother died, until Baruuk took me in, had died two years earlier. Her guards, who never spoke a word of kindness to her, were her only companions.
Hetty had nothing and no one. My suffering didn't even come close to Hetty's. I didn't get to call what Baruuk did to me abuse.
I only fell asleep long after Cisco had settled in for the night and I no longer heard him stir. I hoped he didn't think I was mad at him for what he said, but I couldn't validate what he said either. In the morning he teased me as usual, and our usual easy banter filled our journey.
As we travelled, we passed dilapidated farms with scraggly crops. Many other fields laid barren, all of the life drained from their soil for years to come until it could rejuvenate. When we traveled through villages beggars in the street cried out to us, for it was evident we were wealthy based on the health of our horses alone.
On the evening of our second day of travel Cisco insisted we stop at an inn for dinner, though I insisted we not stay the night. If the locals recognized us, we could be ambushed. I wasn't interested in defending myself against people whose unbroken bodies were the only thing of value they had.
Cisco rubbed his hands together over the gruel the tavern offered. "At least it's hot."
"It's watered down mashed rice and beans. It's mostly water."
"But it's hot," Cisco reminded me as he took his first bite and moaned. The stew, if you could call it that, was depressingly flavorless. The more I ate, the more bitter it tasted, not because it had gone bad, but because this was the best this small town could offer.
"Would you like some ale to go with your meal?" the older barmaid asked. Cisco eagerly accepted the offer. When the barmaid returned with two mugs of a pale ale Cisco gulped it down.
"This is some of the best ale I've ever had, my lady," Cisco said with a wink. "We'll take another round. And do you have any sweets?"
The barmaid's bushy eyebrows danced and her face flushed. "Why yes, sir. We have rice pudding out back."
"If it's half as tasty as the rest of the meal, I'll be thrilled. Everything is delicious."
I sunk down into my seat. Cisco was going to drop serious coin on this meal, not because that was what was charged, but because it was the least he could do. He'd done it on many occasions when we traveled, and it always posed risks.
As a couple of women wearing only a threadbare corset over their chest sunk into the seats on either side of us, I cringed. They looked to be in their forties. One snaked a hand over Cisco's shoulder, while the other pulled the hood from over my head. When she did she was taken aback.
"Excuse me, ma'am!" Her face flushed but she blustered forward. "You're a beautiful couple." She cupped my cheek and leaned against the bar so she could assess us both.
"A stunning couple!" the other exclaimed. Her voice lowered to a sonorous pitch. "Would you like to —"
"No, thank you," Cisco said, covering my hand with his. "But how about you ladies take the night off?" Cisco flipped them two gold coins — more than they could earn in a month. The women made eye contact with each other before cackling like the little girls they were as they ran off. "Thank you, sir! Thank you!"
Once they left, Cisco dragged his hands down his face. "Calidonica is such a dismal place."
We left soon after, after both of us left several gold coins for the barmaid, and took as many bowls of stew as we could carry to hand out to the beggars outside the tavern. As we did, my pale hair fell out from beneath my hood, the long strands brushing the chin of the man I had just gifted stew.
"I know of only one woman with hair as pale as the moon," he rasped. There was a knowing glint in his eyes. "But she doesn't give life — she takes it."
I reeled backward, pulling my hood lower. "I don't know who you're talking about."
"Only the Goddess herself would deny who she is." As I pulled away, the man grabbed my hand with a strength I didn't think him capable of. "Please, my son is in your legion —" His fervor made him look crazed, but I knew it was desperation. "Please, spare him from death, Starborn. He's just a boy still, barely older than you are."
I pulled my hand from his grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about," I insisted, and left Cisco behind to convince the man that he was delusional. I was no Goddess of Death, no Starborn.
The fact that there were people all over Novalya who revered me as a god made me sick. I knew they needed to believe in some guardian to protect them from the harsher realities of life. But no human, especially not someone as wicked as me, deserved that kind of reverence. I preferred hearing the scorn of those who thought me a monster.
Cisco said nothing as we raced our horses as far from that village as reasonably possible before we both became too drowsy to continue. I didn't blame Cisco for what happened — he was capable of doing great good in Calidonica without being recognized. I should do the same, but their devotion disturbed me so deeply, and so many public appearances I'd made went so poorly, I tried to avoid the common people as much as possible. I longed to help them from afar, though.
"There's an inn just a little ways away," Cisco said as we slowed our horses to a walk. "They know me there. They'll leave us alone."
My heart raced. "I can't. They'll recognize me."
Cisco looked up into the darkened sky. The moon wasn't visible from behind the rain clouds. As I looked up, fat drops of rain fell onto my cheeks.
"Come on!" Cisco said, kicking Thunder into a gallop. Knowing I'd regret this, I followed.
The inn was less an inn and more so just a homestead. "This, Cisco?" But I protested no further as lightning illuminated the sky and thunder made Buzzard prance.
Cisco cantared toward the barn, and when we arrived, he opened the doors and we headed in.
"Stable the horses while I speak to the owners?" Cisco asked. I nodded and did as he asked as he left me alone in the barn. It was like any other barn with farming tools littered everywhere. A single horse occupied one of the stalls. She only appeared above the wall of the stable when I approached to inspect it. She nuzzled her nose into my hand when I scratched it.
"Where are we, Cisco?" I asked as he returned with steaming mugs of tea.
"A farm I stop at regularly on my way to Malosiaga. We've struck up a deal. I stay here with relative anonymity for a few gold coins." He took my hand after handing me my mug and led me to the ladder leading up to the hayloft. When we reached the top I saw that amidst the piles of hay was a single bed-like pile of hay with blankets folded beside it and two pillows.
I was too exhausted and rattled from the interaction with the beggar to question it. I laid one of the blankets down across the bed of hay, grabbed a pillow and faceplanted onto the pile of hay bales. Cisco sat at the end of the "bed" sipping his tea. Mine sat on the hay beside me, its aroma soothing.
We both sat in silence, just pondering what happened that night. Cisco knew how I felt about my status as a goddess — a child born from the stars to pave the way for the gods' return. Rumors of my divinity only intensified when a prophet began to travel Novalya preaching about it. The very thought gave me chills. I didn't need to explain myself to Cisco. He knew all of this very well.
"Baruuk considers himself a great king," I said, feeling compelled to explain myself anyways. "But to take from the poor to give boons to the rich…" I caught a glimpse of his face as the clouds parted and moonlight illuminated his face. "I would do things differently. I just —"
I stuttered over my words, unsure how to express myself, wanting Cisco to see the best of me, even though he already knew the worst.
"I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to relate to people who view me as 'other,' whether above or beneath them. I can't be their deity. How do I assert my control over them while subverting their preconceived notions of me? How do I convince them I'm neither a god nor a monster, but still maintain their respect?"
Cisco thought for a long moment. "I think compassion and humility are strengths of yours which would go a long way in showing the people just how human you are." He offered me a soft half-smile. "Those are two things you have in spades, buried deep down. I think it will be easier than you think."
Cisco eased onto the hay bales next to me with his own pillow and waved me over. I hesitated at first, fearing what it would mean if I allowed him to hold me. No one in my entire life had held me like Cisco was suggesting. But his soft grin belied the fact that he already knew he had me. He looped his arm around my shoulders as I settled in the crook of his arm. He pulled me closer. "You'll figure it out. I have faith in you."
"It didn't even occur to me to do what you did. I was so uncomfortable. I just wanted to leave."
"I know you care. You just need to figure out ways to show you care that feel safe."
"You're a good person," I whispered, this reality settling over me, as comforting as a warm blanket around my shoulders.
Cisco snorted. "Hardly. But I have my moments."
Cisco's hand trailed up and down my arm and a chill ran through me. It was hard to relax when I could hear Baruuk's warning blaring in my mind about displays of affection. They were a means to control or be controlled, and nothing more. But when Cisco pulled the blanket up over my shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of my head, I let out a shaky breath and sunk further under the blankets, finally relaxing. My hand which laid on his stomach played with the fabric of his shirt as I drifted off.
I fell asleep with Cisco's arm looped around my shoulders. It was a tender touch that was unfamiliar to us, but felt as natural as could be.
When we woke to the sun peaking through the slats of the barn's walls I found myself on the other side of the hay stack from Cisco on my stomach, my arm draped across his chest and my leg wrapped around his leg. His arm was looped around my waist and his cheek was pressed into my tangled hair. Me rousing woke Cisco and we studied each other for a long moment, our eyes mere inches away from each other's.
"Morning," he said, brushing my tangled hair off my forehead. There was something in the look in his eyes that said he had more to say, but we didn't have time to say anything more before the owner of the homestead came into the barn with our breakfast. We pulled apart and ate before leaving for Quantum Fortress, a comfortable silence between us.
I was grateful we didn't feel the need to discuss exactly why we held each other in the night or woke as we did, but I could feel the weight of it. Every time he glanced at me I felt the feeling of his body against mine and blushed.
This was what Baruuk had warned me about. Last night had changed things between us. I could see in Cisco's eyes he knew exactly how much I craved his touch, and what I was willing to do to get it. And that terrified me, not for the reason that Baruuk warned me, but because I could see the same gravity that pulled me toward Cisco was pulling him toward me. A collision was inevitable. I just hoped we wouldn't get hurt in the process.