Kastali Dun

Merrian cringed at the sight of her hem, stained with mud. Ordinarily, there would be no saving this gown. But nothing about her life was ordinary. Hopefully, her spriten handmaidens had some form of magic capable of restoring it—she'd certainly never been proficient with cleaning cantrips—otherwise, she hoped it wasn't one of Claire's favorites.

The city's streets were always filthy, but especially today, after two days of rain. The sun was finally shining. She intended to take full advantage of the day. Especially since she finally had some free time away from her new duties as queen.

She paused, lifting her face skyward. She took a deep breath. The air was briny and fresh, with only a hint of mildew, and very little of the usual stench. Life in the keep was stuffy. She'd never realized how much until recently.

She sloshed through another puddle, her boots squelching in the mud. She had tried hiking up her skirts, she really had, but she'd since given up. Besides, wasn't a queen above such things? She had fifty gowns, at least—no, even more. Surely someone in her position wouldn't care.

"Your Majesty," Dallin warned, a hint of exasperation in his voice. He always said it that way. Their little joke. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

Passers by gawked, scrambling out of their way. It was impossible to go unnoticed with such an entourage. Not only was Dallin with her, but an entire regiment of spriten guards trailed in her wake.

"I know exactly where I'm going," she announced. "Follow me."

They rounded a corner, trudging deeper into the city's depths. The back alleys of Kastali Dun were a maze—one she'd memorized years ago. A nondescript door came into view. She couldn't help her smile.

Behind her, Feowen muttered something under his breath. She didn't care to listen. Instead, she knocked.

There was a pause, then the door swung open and a harried looking middled aged woman answered. Her face had laugh lines, the skin aging. Her hair was hidden beneath a kerchief. The woman looked at her first with annoyance, then with wide eyes as she realized who stood on her doorstep. "Your...Your Majesty," she sputtered.

Mer ignored the pinch in her chest. It was a very different greeting than what she was used to from Glenna. Normally, they'd be hugging already.

"Hello, Miss Surati." Glenna's eyes widened in surprise. Mer forged ahead. "I had a couple of hours free, and have come to assist in any way necessary."

Glenna Surati operated a homeless shelter on the outskirts of the Pauper's District. There were a number of these establishments in this part of the city, but Glenna was one of her favorite people so she'd chosen this as her first stop of the day.

"You...but...you..." Glenna's eyes flitted from her, to her entourage. "But, Your Majesty, surely..."

"I can assure you, I have nothing more pressing at the moment. Please, I know you have need of assistance, both healing and...otherwise."

Glenna cleared her throat, rubbing a hand over her collarbone. "Very well then, this is all very untoward."

"Certainly," Mer nodded, her expression solemn.

"I must warn you, our house isn't...isn't fit for someone in your...position."

"Miss Surati, you forget that before I came to Dragonwall, I was an outsider, and even after I arrived, I took on the role of a servant, cleaning chambers and such."

"Yes, but...but servant work in the keep is a far cry from the likes of us!" Glenna snapped, then blanched. "Forgive me, I did not meant to be so forward."

"There's nothing to forgive. Please, let's go inside. I will help with whatever I can."

"That would be most welcome." Glenna stepped aside, her expression nervous as Mer walked into the receiving room. She couldn't help but wonder if the real queen would ever come to a place like this, or if such behavior was beneath her. From what she'd learned through the others, Claire would be the first to help a woman like Glenna Surati.

Dallin and her guards followed close on her heels, filing into the parlor. She caught a flash of Feowen's expression, curious but also guarded. His eyes, like those of her other spriten guards, darted around, searching for danger. They'd find none here.

The room was dimly lit and sparsely furnished. Her guards fanned out to inspect their surroundings. A small gasp drew her attention to the doorway. Peeking out from shadowed hallway beyond, two little faces appeared, a boy and girl. She recognized them instantly and almost called out their names. Blood filled her mouth as she chomped down on her tongue. Mer might have known them, but Claire did not.

"Tir, Nira!" Glenna snapped, going rigid with embarrassment. "You know better than to spy when we have guests."

But Tir and Nira didn't hear Glenna. They were wide-eyed, enamored by the otherworldly bodies filling the parlor. "It's all right," Mer urged, biting her bottom lip to keep from grinning. "Would you like to meet my guards?"

Nira stared, her soft brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. Tir, on the other hand, squealed with glee and rushed forward. Nira eventually followed her brother out of the shadows.

Mer was about to facilitate introductions between everyone when Feowen stepped forward instead, a wide grin on his face. He went down on one knee and said, "Well, hello little ones. What are your names?"

"Tir!"

"Nira!"

"Well, now. Those are nice names," Feowen announced, keeping his smile bright and inviting. "And how old are you?"

"Six," Tir announced.

"Both of you?" Feowen lifted a brow.

"Uh-huh." Tir nodded vigorously.

"We're twins!" Nira said proudly.

"I thought you looked like siblings," Feowen said, his expression turning serious. "Siblings must always look out for one another, yes?"

"I always take care of my sister," Tir said proudly, lifting his chin. Feowen reached out and tussled Tir's shaggy brown hair.

"No! I take care of him," Nira countered, as if jealous of the sudden attention her brother was receiving.

"Is that so?" Feowen turned his fierce regard upon the little girl. She was growing more comfortable in his presence. Several spriten guards shifted. The moment Nira was reminded of their presence, her mouth snapped closed. "Oh, don't fear them, child." Feowen took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. "Would you like to learn their names?"

Nira nodded.

"Me too!" Tir announced.

Feowen began making introductions.

Mer took the opportunity to pull Glenna aside. "I'm certain you must have some sick occupants? With my spriten abilities, I can heal whomever requires it." It was a lie. She was no sprite, even if the markings on her skin fooled everyone. But she'd do her best.

"We would be most grateful, Your Majesty," Glenna said, her face flushed.

"And what of your funding? How are you getting by?"

Glenna's throat bobbed, eyes darting to the floor. "We do the best we can, Your Majesty. The supplemental funding we receive each month is put to good use."

"But it's not enough, is it?"

She already knew the answer. She and Glenna had held many long conversations on the matter. It was unlikely that the woman would admit that to the queen, though.

"I...I am grateful we get anything at all," Glenna said.

"Well, let's go over the numbers before I leave, and we can determine where your deficits lie. I brought coin enough to cover necessities with a little extra."

Glenna's lips parted in surprise. "That would be...thank you, Your Majesty."

Glenna took her on a tour of the shelter, leading her through the large rooms packed with cots arranged in various clusters. Those who ended up here had little privacy, but a bed and a roof were better than the city streets. There were four large rooms in total, taking up space on the upper floors. The lower floor was reserved for a cookery, dining room, and sick room.

The dining room consisted of makeshift tables made from crates and stools. Glenna worked hard to make her shelter cozy. She repurposed various items, and covered the tables with worn clothes to make them look fancier. Today, she had several bouquets of dried flowers placed about, to give the room an inviting appearance. Several clusters of people were gathered together sipping tea and playing cards. They all gaped at her.

Glenna's shelter was only meant to be a pass-through for those who fell on tough times, but often, people stayed for months, even years. She would never turn someone away who didn't have a home. But she did require everyone to follow certain rules, to respect each other, and to stay out of trouble while they attempted to get back on their feet.

The sick room was located at the end of the hall, across from Glenna's own private apartment. That way, she was within shouting distance. With low funds, the room was little more than a cluster of cots, curtains, sanitary station, storage, and a single window, currently open to air out the stench of sickness. But it was effective.

Half of the beds were filled.

"It shouldn't take me long," she told Glenna. "I'm sure you have other things to oversee, so please, don't let me keep you. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

"You're sure?" Glenna twisted her fingers together.

"Positive. Thank you."

"Good. Well, then. I'll just see if your guards would like some tea, then." Glenna slipped from the room.

Dallin, Feowen, and Jeanine had followed her in here, Fewoen's two admirers creeping along behind them. There was a woman scrubbing out rags in the corner. Her work stalled as she gaped at them.

"Hello," Mer said. "I'm Queen Claire."

"I know!" the woman said, breathless.

"Yes, of course. Right."

"I'm Amelie, Your Majesty," Amelie blurted, then flushed when her eyes fell on Feowen. She couldn't blame the poor woman. He was beautiful to behold. Jeanine smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had on others.

"You can call me Claire, and this is Dallin, Feowen and Jeanine. We're here to help." Her eyes darted around the room. "Can you tell me what ails each of them?"

"Oh, of course. Yes." Amelie set off to explain each patient's ailments. Once that was complete, Mer sent her off on an errand. Feowen was silent, trailing after her as she went from bed to bed, laying her hands over each person and healing what she could.

Some of them were too sick to comprehend what she was doing. Others were well enough to gape or even profess their undying admiration. A few were shy, and told her she ought not to trouble herself with them. Those were the ones she put the most effort into, because they didn't feel worthy of her time.

As was usual, the symptoms ranged. Some sicknesses were more permanent and required deeper healing. She wasn't especially powerful, but she did what she could. For the issues that were chronic or terminal, she addressed the symptoms to help ease their pain.

That was, until Feowen pulled her aside. "That man—Amelie said that he has a terminal wasting sickness?"

"In his intestines," Mer explained.

His lips pressed into a line and he nodded. "Let me try."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." Feowen stepped forward, greeting the man with a low voice. He hummed, running his hands over the man's body. It took long minutes, but eventually the prince looked up with a pleased expression. "I think I have fixed it. I'm not like other sprite healers, who specialize in this sort of thing. But..."

Mer expelled a breath. "I think whatever you did will be far more than I could." There was no disguising the gratitude in her voice.

She worked with Glenna afterward, going through the shelter's numbers and handing over enough coin to get everyone in the home a new set of clothes and enough food to see them through the next two months.

Glenna was in tears by the time she left.

Glenna Surati's shelter was only the first. At the second, more of the spriten guards grew curious with her work. They offered to help with the sick. A fierce sense of pride well up inside her. Of course Claire's guards would be selfless. She shouldn't have expected otherwise. She simply wasn't used to people of power noticing the needs of others beneath them.

They worked at two more shelters after that, before heading back. As they made their way through the streets to the castle, Dallin escorted her. "I'm taken aback," he admitted. "I never expected you to want to help all of those people yourself."

"Happy to surprise you," she said, weary but satisfied by a full day of labor.

"You do this regularly?" He wanted to know. "Attend to the sick and homeless?"

"Yes, though, usually I charge a small fee for my healing, if I can. I've got to feed and house myself, too. But I only charge what I need to survive. It's far less than any mage healer would charge."

"That's...admirable. The queen would approve, I think. Not that I know her as well as the others do. Still, I don't think she realized there was such a need."

Mer found herself snorting. "Most folk are oblivious to the needs of those less fortunate. It's not usually a conscious decision. Everyone has their own busy lives. Even still, there are plenty who do nothing when the evidence is right under their noses. I would imagine that Claire simply wasn't exposed to places like the Pauper's District on a regular basis."

"No, I cannot say that she was. King Talon didn't like her wandering about, unless it was to the market."

"Understandable. Especially after what happened to her, when she was kidnapped."

"Exactly," he said. "I think when she returns, she'll like meeting you."

Mer's stomach squirmed at the thought. "Really?"

"Really."

She wasn't sure how she felt about the prospect. Nervous, to meet the true queen? Unworthy, because she wasn't all that important? Fearful, because Claire might dislike anyone trying to pose as her? Or excited, because what she was coming to learn about the queen made her want to truly know the woman? Regardless, it wouldn't be possible unless the queen returned. She hoped for all their sakes, that she did. 

💕❤️💕Don't forget to heart this chapter!❤️💕❤️

Hello Bookdragons!

I just adore Mer's character. We will come to know more about her as the book goes on, but she is truly good-hearted.

 Part of this chapter's purpose was to know her better. Another part was because no one is perfect, not even Talon. While he is a good king, he has clearly overlooked certain things. Ruling a kingdom isn't easy. It is hinted that the shelters do receive funding, but they don't receive enough funding. I think that Mer makes some really great points to Dallin :) 

Plus, I think Dallin is right, that Claire and Mer would get along fabulously!

Next week's chapter is also from Mer's POV. See you then!

--Mel