Chapter 3: The Kingdom of Water

They rode single file through the southern castle gate, passing through the archway in single file: Will in the lead, Gwen following, Calida next to her, and Candon bringing up the rear. Out of the shelter of the thick castle walls, sea breeze whipped through the beach grass and through Gwen’s hair. The clop clop of the horse’s hooves was nearly drowned out by the sound of waves as they crossed the stone bridge over the ocean into Rialta’s mainland, where cross-crossed streets were narrow and winding. Doors and window shutters were wide open, and from them children and the scent of baking bread poured. People hurried past them, keeping a respectful distance from the horses with an occasional nod or wave in greeting. Children played on the front steps, calling to each other as they played tag or pretended to sword-fight with sticks.

Will led them confidently through the bustling streets. Everywhere Gwen looked there were street lamps and stone arches covered in ivy and flower baskets hanging from the windows of the second stories. As they advanced further into the heart of the city, the streets grew wider and townhomes transitioned into shops, their painted windowsills and open doors inviting as they advertised wine, yellowed cheese, and warm bread. Finally, the street opened up into a wide courtyard and Will stopped in front of a cafe.

“Where did you take us?” Gwen asked.

“This is the best bakery in the whole kingdom. You have to try it.” Will dismounted his horse. The other three followed suit, tying their horses to a tree so they wouldn’t wander.

The cafe was a tiny but tall building, with a door painted a charming shade of blue. The shutters, doorframe, and patio roof were painted the same brilliant color. Wooden chairs clustered around a table with a plain white tablecloth, adorned by a vase with a bundle of scraggly wildflowers. The irresistible scent of freshly-baked cakes and other pastries fit for immediate consumption drew Calida in like a siren’s song, Gwen on her heels. The walls of the cafe were painted a soft robin-egg blue that reflected the light filtering in through the slender curtainless windows. At the sound of the bell on top of the door jingling, a woman with thick black hair and a wide smile bustled in from the back room.

“Your Highness!” she said, seeing Will. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just here for some pastries,” he said, smiling. “Camille, these are my friends, Calida Niran and Gwen Moorkavia.”

“Moorkavia?” Camille repeated. Her eyes widened. “Oh my stars, you’re the princess!”

Gwen blushed, embarrassed. “That’s me.”

“Oh, and he brought you both,” Camille cooed, looking between Calida and Gwen with affection. “The future queen of Rialta, right here in my little bakery.”

Gwen and Calida looked at each other awkwardly, Calida barely holding back a laugh.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Will said, flushing a little.

“Well you can count on me for my discretion,” Camille winked.

Candon cleared his throat, interrupting. “Why don’t we order?”

Will gave him a grateful glance as Gwen bent to see her options. The glass case seemed to defy physics with the amount of pastries it fit in so small of a space. There were at least half a dozen pies, with their filling peeking out from underneath delicate lattice crusts. There were cannoli and cakes, buns and rolls. There was an endless variety of cookies, from chocolate chip to peanut butter. There were strudels, eclairs, macarons, and croissants. Everything was made with the utmost care and precision, and Gwen could tell Camille’s pastries truly were fit for a king. She didn’t know how she could possibly choose. 

Calida did. “Could I have a chocolate croissant, please?” she asked. The prince ordered macarons. The guard chose a biscotti dipped in chocolate. Gwen, torn between carrot cake and a cinnamon roll, finally decided on the latter. Camille was happy to oblige.

“How much?” Will asked, reaching into his coat pocket.

“Don’t worry about it,” Camille said, waving him off with a knowing smile. “My treat.”

“I insist.” Will pressed some gold coins into her hand. “Thank you.”

“Alright then.” Camille accepted the coins, her brown eyes shining full of gratitude. “Now go outside and entertain your guests!” She shooed them out. While she baked, the guard led them back to the porch out front, where they sat and watched the flurry of the courtyard. 

“She’s crazy for you,” Calida said. Will laughed and sat next to Gwen, arm resting comfortably over the back of his chair.

“I’ve been coming here for ages. She practically watched me grow up, but she still insists on calling me ‘Your Highness.’” He shrugged. “Most do though, so it doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re pretty close with your subjects, aren’t you?” Gwen said hesitantly, not sure if that was a good thing. She had never seen Eira behave so casually around one of her citizens, and she could only imagine Evangeline’s reaction if a subordinate were to ask her as brazen a question as Camille’s. Fortunately, Will took Gwen’s words as a compliment.

“I try to get out of the palace as much as I can,” he answered cheerfully. “I figure if I’m going to be king one day, I might as well start getting to know the people now, before I’m stuck working in the palace all day.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, some can be a little too familiar. Sorry if it made things uncomfortable.”

“Thanks,” Gwen said. “I guess I’m still getting used to being here.”

“And I mean, it’s not exactly some big secret,” Calida responded. “Everyone knows why we’re in Rialta.”

“The thing is,” Will said, leaning forward, “I’ve never been very comfortable with the concept of this tradition. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want my entire love life on display.”

“Agreed,” Gwen said.

“Agreed,” Calida said. “I’ve had enough harassment from nosy family members already.”

“Thank goodness,” Will said, relieved. “I mean, not about your family, but…” he started over. “Look. I know everyone is expecting me to propose to one of you by the end of summer, but that’s a lot of pressure for three months. So what do you say we worry about that later, and I just get to know you first?”

“Ok,” Gwen said.

“Sounds good to me,” Calida said. She cocked her head. Across the square, street performers had just struck up a new song, the melody fast and sweet. People began to get up from their tables to dance, grabbing a partner and joining the ever growing number of couples in the middle. She spoke quickly. “Ok, three things about me. Number one, I love to dance. Number two, I love this song. Number three, I can go find my own dance partner but I’d prefer to dance with someone that’s not a total stranger.”

Will laughed. “Calida, would you like to dance with  me?”

“Well, if you insist.” Calida grabbed his hand and pulled him into the dance floor, laughing.

Gwen watched as they joined the sea of skirts and coats swirling in time to the music. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. On one hand, she was relieved Will wanted to take things slow. On the other hand, she wasn’t doing herself any favors, especially since Calida was already so effortlessly charming. Still, she couldn’t hold it against her. If Gwen was being honest, Calida was growing on her. 

Gwen busied herself with watching Will and Calida dance across the square, chucking at the height difference. While the prince wasn’t particularly short, Calida towered a whole head over him in her leather riding boots. And although it was a fast song, both dancers were adept at keeping up without running into each other. That is, until a less experienced dancer bumped into Will, shoving him into Calida. Gwen watched a bit enviously as they pushed themselves apart, flushed at the forced proximity. Calida said something to him, unheard by Gwen over the music, but it must have been funny because the prince laughed and dipped her in time to the music. Gwen looked between them curiously. Was there something between them already, something she hadn’t noticed at first?

“Why aren’t you two out there?” asked a voice behind her. Gwen jumped and turned quickly, feeling as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. It was Camille, balancing their plates full of ordered pastries. For a second Gwen couldn’t recall what Camille had asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You and Candon should go dance,” she repeated, gesturing to the avid dancers.

“I don’t know the steps,” she said.

“I don’t dance,” the guard said at the same time. Gwen side-eyed him. Didn’t he know better than to interrupt? From her experience, guards were supposed to be seen and not heard. She didn’t want to dance, here in the middle of the street, and especially not with a lowly palace guard. What would her mother say if she saw her conversing, even dancing with a guard?

“Well suit yourselves. At any rate, here are your desserts. Make sure you save some for those two lovebirds!” Camille moseyed back into the kitchen. Gwen bit into her cinnamon roll passionately, trying to shove down any reaction to the word “lovebirds” but lost her ferocity immediately.

“Mmmph,” she sighed, her mouth full of the heavenly pastry. The sweetness filled her mouth and banished any bad thoughts. Gwen heard a chuckle next to her and looked over, cheeks bulging.

“I’ve always heard Camille’s cinnamon rolls were a crowd favorite,” the guard said. Gwen covered her mouth and swallowed quickly.

“It’s really good,” she mumbled in defense.

“Try one of Will’s macarons,” he said, plucking a light pink one off his plate and offering it to Gwen. Her eyes widened and she looked around for Will, who was still dancing with Calida, unaware his own bodyguard was stealing food off his plate.

“No, thank you,” she said, looking back to her cinnamon roll. If he was going to steal, she wasn’t going to be his accomplice.

“...Okay then.” The guard retracted his hand and ate it himself, careful not to drop crumbs on his uniform. The song ended and Calida and Will bounded over.

“Having fun?” the guard asked the prince, quirking an eyebrow.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Will said to Calida, breathing hard.

“I’m Niranian. I was practically born dancing,” Calida responded. “Ooh, my croissant is here.”

“Hey, one of my macarons is missing!” Will said. Gwen’s heart beat fast as he looked at the guard accusingly.

“What? No way,” the guard drawled completely unconvincingly. To her surprise, Will laughed and grabbed the biscotti right out of the guard's hand, taking a bite.

“That’s what you get,” he said, his mouth full. The guard cracked a smile and swiped his pastry back.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry. Just making sure it wasn’t poisonous,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh so that’s what you call it?”

“Hey, you didn’t check mine,” Calida said. “Do you want me to drop dead?”

“I mean if you insist.” The guard made as if he was going to steal her croissant, but she jumped out of reach with a yip.

“I was kidding!”

Gwen watched Calida and the guard, amazed at how easily the others accepted him as part of their group. It was as if the fact he was being paid to look after them meant nothing, as if he wasn’t just a guard. I guess things are a bit more relaxed here, she thought. 

“Gwen, how’s your cinnamon roll?” Will asked, turning his attention to her. Gwen snapped back to reality.

“Amazing. Heavenly,” she admitted.

“We’ll have to come here more often then,” he winked. Will held out his plate to her. “Want to try one of my macarons?” 

She smiled at him, real and genuine, and accepted the offer. “Thank you.”