"She kept swimming, but that ocean had no shores."

- Maryam

˖𓍢ִִ໋𓇼⋆

The sea felt wrong to me. Too rich, too sweet, like the world's edges had blurred into unreality.

The ship was magnificent, every inch of it imposing yet elegant, like it had been carved from midnight. The hull, polished so dark it gleamed like glass, seemed to drink in the light, and it was taller than I'd imagined. A carved sea serpent loomed at the bow, coiled in a fierce, eternal snarl. Its blue scales glistened even from a distance, and its glassy eyes were as pale as storm clouds, looking straight through me. It seemed to guard the ship with a knowing, almost possessive gaze.

The sails—three immense sheets of indigo cloth lined with copper—rose high, rustling with the breeze, their edges catching the sun like a shimmer of lightning on water. I could feel their powerful and assured weight like they were built to slice through any tempest fate might throw at us. They had named it The Stormborn, a ship made to rule the restless waves. And as I stood there on the deck, feeling its shadow stretch over me, I felt its promise: to carry us far from the desert sands and into whatever awaited me beyond the horizon.

The remainder of our voyage passed in a haze of creaking timbers, salt-worn sails, and murmured orders as we carved our way through the open sea. The two days blurred into the each other. A steady rhythm formed of whispered laughter from Rook's men, who found ways to joke even in the confines below deck, their voices like faint echoes of home.

Lord Alaric was an ever-present figure, pacing the deck, his gaze fixed on the horizon as though he could see straight into the heart of Zospery. I never grew accustomed to the ship's sways and lurches, the damp air clinging to my skin like a second cloak.

In the quiet of the endless day, I became a shadow among my own guards, unseen yet unshakably present, feeling the faint, unfamiliar comfort of being both sheltered and unknown. By the time land came into sight—a dark smudge against the gray dawn—it felt like any other day.

I stepped off the ship onto Zospery's cobbled pier, feeling like I was walking into a stranger's dream. The city rose before me like a mirage. Ethereal and impossibly vibrant even against the bright blue sky. The air was thick with the scent of salt and brine, mingled with something sweeter, like a whisper of jasmine carried on the ocean breeze. In the distance, the sea met the horizon in a seamless line, and the sun cast its warm light across the water, turning the gentle waves into a shimmering blanket of stars. Somewhere beyond the horizon lay home.

My loyal soldiers waited before me. Lord Alaric's men conversed with mine in hushed whispers, the man himself talking to Rook. There seemed to be a quiet agreement, and Lord Alaric swept ahead of us, his men dispersing off into the various streets in pairs.

Captain Rook stood tall, stiff as he scanned the surrounding area. His hand rested on his sword's pommel. "Highness, it is not safe out here. We must move quickly."

Behind me, a large presence gently herds me forward.

Hale.

Built like a mountain, the orc-blooded man loomed over me like a shield. Hooded eyes staring down at me as he protectively crowded into my personal space. Scratching at his close-cropped beard, he grunted in agreement.

"Best keep your head down, Your Highness. No telling what kind of miscreants lurk in this city." His tone was unhurried, choosing his words carefully.

Rook stepped forward, ushering his men along as he stayed close to me. "Kade, scout ahead. Doran, keep the rear tight. No stragglers. Bas, with me."

There was a soft grunt left behind in Sergeant Orrell's wake as he rushed ahead to scout. Beside me, Roane grinned wickedly. The young man was eager and excited to be out of Sigyn. I couldn't blame him. It's all I knew, but I was not keen to be here. He was quick to fall into formation, quiet despite the obvious glee on his face.

We pushed into the city, the five of us, and its beauty took me aback.

The late morning sunlight cast everything in a bright, almost dreamlike clarity. The harbor teemed with life, an array of scents, sounds, and colors that overwhelmed the senses. Merchant ships crowded the waters, their sails towering high above us in all shades of jewel tones—emerald greens, deep amethysts, sapphire blues—each bearing a unique flag, marking their far-off homelands.

Between the towering ships bobbed smaller boats, garishly painted in colors that had faded under years of harsh sun and salt, their hulls adorned with carved animal heads: some looked like open-beaked birds, others like fish caught mid-leap, and a few like serpentine dragons twisting around the wood.

I had never seen anything like it. There had been so much I hadn't seen in the years since Mother died that I realized just how small and naïve I was in the grand scheme of things. Oh, yes. I knew many things by heart, having memorized pages upon pages from my lesson books. However, when it came to real life, I was shaken to my core with fear of knowing so very little.

Sticking close to Hale, I took comfort in knowing my companions were well-versed in the world.

Ahead of me stretched the city, sprawling across a gentle rise of hills that met the blue ocean. From this view, Zospery was a layered mosaic of color and texture, unlike anything I'd imagined. The buildings here hugged the streets in close formation, their walls constructed from sandstone baked golden by the sun. Some were bleached almost white, weathered by time and salt, while others had been freshly painted in brilliant shades of indigo, ochre, and terracotta.

Their facades were decorated with intricate tilework and arches that hinted at the world within. Balconies jutted out from every angle above us, bursting with flowering vines draping down in crimson, violet, and green curtains. Narrow banners hung from upper windows, each bearing a unique emblem—a coiled fish, a rearing lion, or the seashell crests of local families and guilds—that fluttered lazily in the sea breeze, proclaiming allegiance to the many factions and families of Zospery.

I drew a deep breath, straightening my shoulders as we pressed on. Everything was so new and fresh that I felt as if I couldn't keep up with the new information coming rapidly into my mind.

"Take heart," Rook murmured, and my gaze snapped to him only to find his eyes fixed ahead. Nothing scared him, I realized. He had been to so many places I hadn't. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, my lady. You'll do well here."

Perhaps. I stared ahead, tightening my jaw as I lifted my chin. I was a princess. I had undergone years of training for a purpose such as this—to represent my kingdom and my people and provide them the best course through an ever-changing landscape. I pushed away the fear that crept up my spine at the mere thought of stumbling.

Noise surrounded us, a cacophony of voices in unfamiliar accents and intonations flowing together like a strange, erratic song. Vendors called out in sing-song voices, advertising exotic spices, bizarre fruits, and finely woven fabrics. Children darted between the crowds, their laughter high-pitched and wild as they dashed after each other. Traders, with skin of every hue and garb of every cut, moved like currents around us.

I saw northerners with their pale skin and heavy cloaks, desert folk with sun-darkened faces, and even islanders from the further reaches of the coastlands, each dressed in distinct and unusual garb. The variation was dizzying; some wore fine silks embroidered with glittering thread, while others donned layers of loose cotton or leather tunics marked with the stains and burns of their trades.

It hit me as we moved through the crowd. Other than a few various stares, no one knew who I was or recognized us. Rook and his men were garbed in ordinary cloaks, covering their polished armor underneath. They were like anyone else.

I was like anyone else.

My fingers found the fox figurine again, squeezing it in my fist as we walked.

Rook and his men flanked me on all sides, moving as a solid wall through the sea of people, guiding us up winding streets that shifted from smooth, worn cobblestones to jagged stone underfoot. Every turn was a new discovery, from narrow alleyways lit only by thin shafts of sunlight piercing down from above to broader avenues where open-air stalls spilled out onto the street, crowding us in on all sides.

There were tiny shrines embedded in the walls, sacred niches filled with candles, dried herbs, and tiny carvings of deities unfamiliar to me. Each shrine bore offerings in vibrant colors, draped with fabric and flowers, exuding an earthy, smoky incense that mingled with the salty sea air.

Roane licked his lips, eyes glittering with desire. "One Above, some of the food around here smells so good!"

He was quickly quelled by a stern glance from Hale, followed by a disapproving grunt.

Our journey led us past a marketplace, where each stall overflowed with unusual wares. Crates were piled high with spices in every shade—crimson, ochre, forest green—filling the air with scents so potent that they made my mouth water. Another stall boasted strings of beads, some carved from bone, others made of vibrant glass that caught the sunlight in dazzling flashes. 

Beyond it, I glimpsed jewelry made from twisted sea glass, rings inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and bracelets crafted from strands of coral woven with silver. Merchants called to us as we passed, displaying fabrics finer than anything I'd seen before, dyed in colors so deep they seemed to drink in the sunlight. There were silks the color of midnight and moss and a robe embroidered with golden fish that shimmered as if alive.

"It is beautiful here," I said to Rook, unsure where to focus as we moved.

We soon reached the city's heart, a grand square before Queen Deline's castle. It was larger and more ornate than I had anticipated, a masterpiece of craftsmanship that combined the raw strength of Dorn's fortresses with a kind of artistic elegance unique to Zospery. How many times had I seen such architecture in the books of Sigyn's library? How many times had I thumbed through pages, dreaming of the day I would see such things for myself?

And here it was, extending into the sky like a marker out of my dreams.

The outer walls were whitewashed stone, gleaming bright in the late morning sun. They rose to slender towers capped with domes tiled in cobalt blue. Intricate mosaics adorned the entrance, depicting waves crashing along a coastline. Fantastical sea creatures—mermaids, krakens, and dolphins—were rendered in silvery tiles that caught the light with each step we took toward them. The castle seemed to shimmer, like a jewel rising from the ground.

At the gate stood guards in polished armor etched with patterns reminiscent of waves. Their helms crested with the image of a single, watchful eye. Here, Lord Alaric and his men reappeared.

"Princess," Lord Alaric said, though he didn't bother to meet my gaze.

"Lord Alaric."

As we passed, the guards stood to attention, their faces solemn yet intrigued. We paused as they recognized our group, casting Lord Alaric a respectful nod before guiding us into the cool shade of the castle courtyard. The scents of ocean salt and incense lingered here, the faintest touch of spice drifting from the shadowed halls ahead.

As we passed through the arched doorway, I became acutely aware of every step. Zospery was unlike Sigyn in every way, and with every glance, I felt the weight of its history—a place that had weathered centuries of trade, intrigue, and foreign rule yet had somehow carved out its own identity. The people here seemed to live with one foot in the familiar sands of their homeland, the other forever dipping into the ever-shifting tides. And here I was, yet another visitor from afar, bringing my own secrets, my own purpose, into the heart of Zospery.

With every step, I felt its presence more keenly—an island that watched me as closely as I watched it. I wasn't sure yet if Zospery would offer itself to me freely or if I'd have to pry its secrets from it. But I could feel its spirit in every wall, every glance, every breath, and I knew this was the beginning of something that would linger in me for as long as I let it.

Lord Alaric fell into step beside me. His presence was oppressing, almost smothering me even from the respectful distance he kept.

"Queen Deline will want to speak with you," he said, his voice low and rumbling like distant thunder.

"As to be expected," I said, trying to stifle the irritation that crawled up my spine at his proximity.

"She is not an easy woman to talk to. Take nothing she says to heart."

My gaze drifted to him, eyebrows lifting. "Are you attempting to save me from something, Lord Alaric?"

His neutral expression gave nothing away. "Walk the line between dagger and oath, Princess Ilaria, and you will do well."

It felt like taking advice from a snake.

Rook caught my eye. The corners of his mouth tugged downward in disapproval, but he remained obediently silent.

As we stepped within the halls of Queen Deline's castle, a coolness washed over me that only made me more anxious for what was to come.