(KBTCM) Ch 27: Messenger For The King!

Rowena walked with measured steps through the heart of Eldermere, her towering frame gliding between the stone spires and timber roofs of Grelling Row. Her long hair caught the morning sun as she smiled down at the streets below, where men, women, and children peeked from windows and doorways.

She greeted them with a polite nod or a soft "good day," and though her voice was gentle, it still rolled through the narrow streets like a deep bell. Some of the braver folk waved back; others simply stared, their awe mixed with the nervousness that always followed her footsteps.

It was a good day—better than most, she thought. She had a little surprise tucked away for Kerren, and the very idea of his reaction warmed her chest. Still, she reminded herself to keep calm. If she let her excitement get the better of her, her footfalls might shake the rooftops, or worse, leave cracks in the streetstones.

Kerren lives by the outskirts, she remembered, her smile tugging wider. By the gate, he said.

The city began to thin as she left behind the crowded lanes of Grelling Row, the streets giving way to rolling grassland and scattered homes. On a small rise ahead stood a hut so tiny it barely reached her ankles. Its stone walls looked sturdy but humble, as though one strong kick might topple the whole thing.

Rowena slowed as her eyes fell on the two figures outside. There was Kerren, standing in front of the little door with his hammer resting against his leg. But he wasn't alone.

Someone sat beside him on a stool—an older man, though not in rags as she expected of a smith's kin. His clothes were travel-worn but neat, marked by care even through the dust of the road. For a heartbeat Rowena thought this must be Kerren's father, but no—the lines of his face, the cut of his coat, didn't fit the picture.

Rowena lowered herself carefully onto her knees, her immense shadow spilling over the hut. The earth gave a soft groan beneath her weight as she leaned closer.

"Kerren," she greeted, her voice warm as she brushed her skirt aside.

Kerren stepped forward, striding up to the edge of her boot as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "Princess Rowena," he answered with a small smile.

Her eyes flicked back to the man still seated, whose jaw hung open in silent disbelief. She knew that look well—she had seen it countless times on the faces of foreigners, that mix of awe and terror reserved for their kind.

"Who's your friend?" she asked, tilting her head, though her gaze never left his wide eyes.

Kerren glanced back at him. "This is Elric, a messenger from Torr Valen."

Rowena's brows rose. "An ally kingdom?" she echoed, clearly surprised.

Elric swallowed, his voice caught in his throat. Kerren spoke for him. "He has a message for the king."

Rowena turned her full attention to the man. Her tone softened. "Then it is not a road you should walk alone." She extended her hand, palm up, fingers steady as stone bridges. "Climb on, messenger. I'll take you to my father myself."

Elric hesitated, looking from her hand to her towering face. His knuckles whitened on the stool's edge. But at length, with a shaky breath, he forced himself to his feet. One cautious step after another, he crossed the grass and scaled the ridge of her palm, settling into the warm, smooth surface of her skin.

"That's it," Rowena said gently, as though coaxing a frightened horse.

When she looked back to Kerren, her smile returned. She curled one finger toward herself like an invitation. "Come on."

Kerren folded his arms. "No reason for me to come. You've got him well in hand."

Rowena narrowed her eyes with a playful tilt. "You were the one who found him, Kerren. That makes this as much your doing as his. And besides—" her smile softened—"I have something I want to tell you."

Kerren sighed through his nose, shaking his head as if to say you never let me off easy. With a small shrug, he stepped forward onto her offered finger. Her touch was steady as a bridge, her skin warm beneath his boots, and he made his way up until he could cross into the wide plain of her palm beside the trembling Elric.

Rowena's grin widened as she lifted her hand with practiced care. "That's better."

Kerren settled down in the center of her palm, legs crossed as if he were sitting on a warm stone by the river. The rise and fall of her skin was steady beneath him, her pulse faintly thrumming under the surface like the beat of a distant drum. Across from him, clinging to the edge of her hand like a man on the brink of a cliff, Elric was down on his hands and knees. His wide eyes darted between the kingdom spread out far below and Rowena's enormous fingers curving around them like walls.

Kerren tilted his head, almost amused. The poor man looked pale, as if one strong gust of wind might finish him off. "You can relax, you know," Kerren said, smirking as he leaned back a little. "Rowena won't let anything happen to you."

Elric's lips twitched, but no words came out at first. He just swallowed and tried to keep his breathing steady.

Kerren gave a small chuckle, shaking his head before letting his curiosity get the better of him. "So—Elric, right? What's your message to the king, anyway? If you don't mind me asking."

The messenger stiffened, knuckles white against the princess's skin. For a long moment, it looked like he might refuse. But then his shoulders sagged, as if the weight of the words was too much to carry alone. He shook his head slowly. "You'd find out soon enough."

Kerren straightened up, his expression sharpening. "Find out what?"

Elric finally looked him in the eye, his face grave. "The kingdom of Torr Valen is under attack."

Kerren's mouth fell open. "What?!" His voice carried louder than he intended, bouncing off Rowena's curved palm like a shout inside a cavern.

Rowena's eyes flicked down to them at once, her brows lifting. "What did you just say?"

Elric drew in a breath, steadying himself though his body still trembled with the strange ride. "Our borders are burning. Armies we've never seen before—creatures, not men—are pouring in from the east. We've held them back for days, but we cannot last without aid. That is why I've come."