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Book 2 Chapter 1: The Heros New Clothes

  On a hot sunny day, Potions’ Corner was a different place. It wasn’t only the picturesque district with the half-timbered fa?ades and jettied upper floors where magic users came to buy valuables, and where tourists flocked in to marvel at all the fancy shops. It was also a small maze of narrow streets and little air, drenched in sunlight and heat, where everyone looked for shade. The streets smelled of spices, but also of sweat.

  Thankfully for me, there were probably more cafés than actual magic shops in the handful of streets that composed the district. The man I came to visit was sheltered under a beige canvas awning, sitting at a small round table with a pint of fresh beer in front of him. His shirt matched the color of his dark blue hair, and for once, he wasn’t wearing a jacket or a scarf. The heat finally caught up with the infamous Vilo Jozin, leader of the All One party.

  Vilo smiled at me and invited me to sit down opposite him.

  “One of the same for the lady!” he ordered.

  A young waitress, probably twelve or thirteen years old, hurried to the bar. In my native place, that girl should have been at school, but in Brealia, it was common to start working at the age of ten, or even earlier.

  I’ll change that. Give me some time.

  “I heard your friend took her exam at the University?” Vilo asked.

  The man has ears everywhere.

  I nodded and rolled my thumb under the two pendants I wore around my neck, a supposedly lucky Mera flower and a piece of wood carved by Catalin herself.

  “My fiancée passed her exam yesterday. Brilliantly.”

  And then she spent the rest of the day with her parents and siblings, only coming back to the palace for dinner. At least we got to share a special dessert baked by the kitchen staff.

  The young waitress brought me a glass of beer. I paid her double and told her to keep the change, as a tip.

  “You won’t change this kingdom with random charity,” commented Vilo.

  I sighed. “I know. But should I keep money I don’t need instead? Anyway, I’m happy to see you again.”

  Vilo had been injured in the fight to stop a traitor and prevent a war between Brealia and Inabar. For two months, I thought he was mad at me and he never wanted to see me again, until I got an invitation to have a drink together, as friends. And there I was. Not sure I could call him a friend, and yet willing to try.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Better. I had bruises, burn marks along my limbs, and my heart acted crazy for a while. I couldn’t feel my toes for days.”

  Logical injuries for someone who got hit by a lightning spell. I nodded. “By the way, how did you even get hit, with your all-evading power?”

  Vilo looked at his glass. “I have my weaknesses like everyone else.”

  His hand went through the glass, once, twice. On the third time, he made contact and caught his beverage.

  “My natural power goes both ways. If I decide something can’t touch me, I can’t touch it either, and the other way around. When I tried to attack the sorcerer, it made me vulnerable.”

  “Thanks for the explanation. And sorry about your dagger. I dropped it somewhere during the fight.”

  While puking out of teleportation sickness.

  Vilo waved an imaginary fly away.

  “I’ll buy another when I can afford it. I heard you used it to weaken the sorcerer, so it played its part. But it wasn’t the only help you got from me and my companions. You owe me, Al.”

  So that’s why he sent this invitation.

  I smiled. “I knew you didn’t just want to talk about our health. I’m fine, by the way. My broken rib and the burn on my arm healed nicely.”

  “Good news.” Vilo’s smile looked genuine. “But remember, you promised to support All One. This kingdom must change, and it must change fast.”

  I sipped my beer. Unlike my thoughts, it was pleasantly fresh.

  “How fast, Vilo? I’m still figuring out how this place works and how I fit in the picture.”

  He shook his head.

  “Come on, you’re figuring it out from the palace itself, where you live for free, dressed and fed by the personnel. Did you have servants, where you came from?”

  “I didn’t. When I came home from work, I cleaned my own house and cooked my own food.”

  I looked down at my bodice, which was stained with white powder.

  “See? I baked today. I’m not exactly idle.”

  “But you could do nothing all day, if you wanted, and still bask in undeserved luxury. All One claims everyone in Brealia should have the same rights, and I thought you shared our beliefs, Al. Did you give up when you realized you were on the good side of the privilege system?”

  “No, I…”

  I swallowed with an effort. He’s twenty-five and he’s putting his finger right on my contradictions.

  “Look, Vilo, I was literally brought into this world to be an instrument of the system. I’m not powerful enough by myself to directly confront the king, so I must gather support first. I’m walking on eggshells here.”

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  He looked at me with a smirk.

  “Really? So, what did you do to further the cause over the past two months, while I was recovering from my injuries?”

  I straightened up.

  “All right, this won’t sound too heroic to you, but you might have heard about the ban of arsenic-based pigments in paints and wallpapers. It was enforced half a month ago, and manufactures are dismantling production lines as we speak.”

  Vilo narrowed his eyes. “Should I feel impressed?”

  “Impressed? Probably not. But it’s a step forward, as far as public health’s concerned.”

  “It’s only wallpapers. What’s the matter with them?”

  Catalin had a cough when I met her. She talked about violent headaches, even though I never saw her suffer from them. And she wasn’t even too badly affected by the wallpaper in her bedroom.

  “You wouldn’t ask this question if you’d come with us when I visited a manufacture with Lord Berg, the Minister of Labor. Many workers showed signs of arsenic poisoning. Pink eyes, nausea, cyanosis…”

  Vilo shrugged.

  “These workers are exploited. Once every ounce of arsenic is removed from their machines, do you think they’ll be healthier?”

  “At least marginally so. I see it as a first step. Once the council sees the improvement, both in workers’ and customers’ health, they’ll trust me more, and we can move on to bigger changes.”

  I knew it was a bit selfish of me to begin with arsenic. I’d focused on it specifically because it made my fiancée sick. But I had to start somewhere, and this wallpaper topic was as good as any.

  “I told you, Vilo,” I added. “If you want a revolution, I won’t stand in your way, but I won’t wield a weapon at the Brealian nobility either. I’m not a fighter. If a peaceful change is possible, I’ll always lean towards it.”

  “If King Esthar keeps ignoring us, we won’t remain peaceful, and you know it. Anyway, it sounds like you could only enforce change by relying on his authority. How did manufacturers react to the sudden ban?”

  I sighed.

  “They all but laughed at me. They said arsenic was perfectly harmless as long as it wasn’t ingested, most of them had their own wallpapers at home, and banning them was a nonsense.”

  “Why did you ban the pigments anyway?”

  “Because I knew it was the right thing to do. Lord Gimon told me I’d be crippling the economy if I kept pushing such measures, but I don’t care. Why worry about the wealth of a few when people are sick? Dying, even?”

  Vilo nodded slowly.

  “I just wish you went a little further in your reasoning. The king and the council still hold all power. And commoners can’t even dream of changing the course of things, because we weren’t born in the right places.”

  I raised a finger.

  “I’m trying to convince King Esthar to create state-funded schools. To give every child enough knowledge to know where they stand, and a chance to climb the social ladder.”

  “What’s the point, if the highest positions are out of reach?”

  I blew softly on the surface of my beer.

  “They won’t be out of reach forever. If they were opened right now, only people of wealthier extraction would have a chance at getting them. Is it what you want?”

  Vilo frowned.

  “Your solutions always require time, Al. Time we might not have.”

  “Would you do a better job, if you ruled this country?”

  “Possibly.”

  That’s the problem with Vilo. He sees himself as a possible replacement for Esthar, and just changing who’s on top of the pyramid won’t solve the pyramid problem.

  “Anyway,” he added, “what are you doing on Rising?”

  Rising was a religious holiday, observed by worshipers of the Almighty, who made up a large majority of the Brealian population. On the dawn of the summer solstice, people gathered to welcome the longest day of the year. There were chants, services in temples to thank the Almighty for His light, and round honey biscuits whose shape was meant to look like the sun. To be honest, I wasn’t eager to get up before dawn and attend a religious service so early in the morning. I was mostly interested in the food.

  I explained that, since this was my first summer in this world, I’d stick to the royal court’s schedule, with a service at the royal chapel, followed by a number of official festivities. Vilo tried to talk me out of it, explaining that Rising was mostly an occasion for families and friends to come together.

  I know. Catalin is celebrating it with her family.

  “I can join your friends next year,” I offered.

  He grimaced, he told me how delicious his friend Lily’s honey biscuits were, and at this point, I could have given in, for the sake of my sweet tooth. But there was another reason why I was staying at the palace for Rising, a reason a political opponent like Vilo couldn’t approve. I was leaving Carastra early on the next day, along with King Esthar and Crown Princess Nigella.

  I took a look at the shadows on the street. I didn’t plan to meet anyone before the end of the afternoon, so I took my time, drinking and chatting, trying my best to make a friend out of Vilo Jozin.

  I might even have achieved something, as we shared a short embrace before going our separate ways.

  I walked back to the palace with the confidence of a person who’d become used to coming and going in the nearest districts. Princess Nigella always paled when she saw me walk around unescorted, but I didn’t need a babysitter.

  I crossed the courtyard and entered the royal residence, guards moving aside to let me in. I couldn’t wait to get back to my room, grasp a book and learn more about my adoptive country. I walked up the main stairs and turned left to go into the west wing.

  “Great Hero Al!” called a female voice.

  I turned around with a tired smile. Silani, one of Princess Nigella’s personal maids, was gesturing at me from the top of the main stairs.

  “The princess kindly reminds you that you should have tried on your outfit by now. Adjustments might be required. You know we’re leaving in three days, don’t you?”

  I sighed. I did know it, but I kept postponing the final fitting session for my party attire.

  “All right, Silani. Please tell Princess Nigella I’m coming.”

  “I’m not telling her anything, Great Hero Al. She wants me to escort you to the fitting room.”

  The room was on the ground floor of the east wing, on the left-hand side or the corridor, with windows facing north. Still, at this time of year, there was plenty of light inside. Wooden floor and wall panels up to shoulder height, white walls above, wardrobes everywhere, and several painted screens. The place was basically a giant walk-in closet, where ceremony outfits were kept and fitting sessions organized. Seamstress Darine Yul, an energetic blond-haired Zimeon in her early fifties, almost jumped at me.

  “There’s our Great Hero! Come and try your clothes on.”

  “Please call me Al…”

  I was ushered behind a screen and handed embroidered clothes. As the seamstress helped me change, I marveled at the skill of whoever had worked on them. I didn’t deserve such artistry. Off the peg clothes were enough for me, except when a crown princess invited me to her first cousin’s engagement ceremony and some decorum was required.

  I hated the idea. But I loved the clothes, the frilled shirt, the design of the plum-colored bodice. Everything seemed to fit perfectly. Darine Yul took a step back and gave me a look of appreciation, her rat ears wide open in contentment.

  “You won’t need any adjustments. Now come out of here, so the princess can see you. Princess Nigella, may I suggest you take a look at your friend? With a better hairstyle, she’ll be perfect.”

  I startled.

  “The princess is here?”

  I peeked out of the screen and my heart tried to explode. Princess Nigella was adjusting an ornate belt around the dragon Kossi’s waist.

  It was the first time I was seeing Kossi in such an attire. As a Gold Dragon, he had an innate power to generate his own clothes, the ones he walked in every day, but everything he ever wore was invariably black. This time, however, he was trying on a white shirt, a dark blue waistcoat with a golden pattern that matched his eyes, and he was more gorgeous than ever.

  Why do I still notice how handsome he is whenever I see him? I should have gotten used to it by now, especially after seeing him covered in flour after a botched attempt at baking.

  Nigella had the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her face.

  “Al, I must say you look wonderful! I cannot wait to introduce you to my sisters and cousins. What do you think of Kossi’s outfit?”

  “It suits him perfectly,” I tried to answer.

  But I think I only uttered consonants.

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