A/N sorry for the long wait but you should be expecting such I have no plan with this book I'm just vibing and it's a problem hahaha

Choosing a dress was hard for Carnation, or rather, it was hard for Thorn -especially when the aged tailor simply sat in her rocking chair, silently rocking back and forth and watching them.
Thorn would compare the fabric to the color of her skin and hair and mutter a yes or no, he'd tug the fabric to see if it would tear easily, and he requested Carnation try on at least ten gowns so he could see if they 'complimented her figure'. He had expensive and specific tastes, and no dress seemed good enough for this princess he was to deliver to the palace.

But making it harder, Carnation didn't try them all on, only the ones with skirts to the floor, claiming she'd get cold in anything less (a pretty stupid excuse for a 'fire princess'), but this wasn't the real reason. Carnation's legs were turning silver from the bottom up- not only in color, but also in texture, they were hard, shining, iron. People wouldn't raise an eyebrow at it at the country taverns, they were used to it but...Thorn ought not see it.

Thorn sighed heavily.
"You don't like this dress? This one -one- dress with my seal of approval? I know it's short but I assure you will not be cold. I assure you." This guy really loved to repeat things. He always used more emphasis the second time around but it changed nothing. Still a cute-ish quirk.
Carnation shrugged, she didn't want to turn down his Thorn approved dress, but she couldn't wear it.

Thankfully he grabbed another dress (though he didn't look as confident in this one) Carnation nodded a thank you and went into the dressing room, she straightened the dress over her legs and glanced in the mirror. Despite being a welder and warrior and whatnot...she liked to think she looked nice in dresses, the frillier, the pinker, the better.

Thorn seemed to think so too.
"I hated that dress." He commented as soon as she came out of the changing room to where he sat.
"But...you clean up nice. You look good." He looked at her dress instead of her face, and even though their height difference probably played into this, it was still a little uncomfortable.

Carnation didn't feel Thorn's compliment was as sincere as it could've been, but he bought the dress and reluctantly pushed himself out of the plush chair he had rested in. Linking arms again, and giving a respectful nod (Thorn) and over-excited thank you (Carnation) to the previously silent and still tailor the pair went on their merry way.

Not long after they began, buildings sprang up along the horizon, only the tallest churches and bell towers at first, but soon enough all sorts of shops and homes were a stride away.
The barren streets became lively, the trees became trimmed, the pedestrians became colorfully and tastefully dressed.
Carnation had to force herself to blink because her eyes didn't want to miss a thing, not one gold lined flower pot, stained glass window, or ivory pillar, the intricate beauty of the City of Fyta made it seem entirely different from the quiet, uneventful type of beauty where Carnation was from.

Along the sides of the roads there were merchants peddling all sorts of thing - several obnoxiously grabbing Thorn's arm to offer him deals he declined with
"No thank you."
Then, there was a beggar who grabbed his hand.
Thorn stopped in his track, Carnation stumbled forward, the beggar stared up with pleading eyes.
"Please spare a coin..." he cried in a hoarse voice.

Thorn tugged his arm away from the man and wiped it on his pants as if the germs were bound to kill.
"Spare some decency. Work for what you want, war criminal scum."

Carnation's jaw dropped.
"Thorn-" she started to say but backed down. She didnt know why she backed down. She felt bad. Instead of arguing she grabbed her coinpurse and dropped it, pushing it with her foot towards the beggar. And Thorn didn't notice.
Once Thorn turned away and continued walking, Carnation asked quietly,
"Why did you say that?"

He had the guts to mention it, but Thorn didn't have the guts to explain it.
"...Don't worry about it, Your Majesty."
He looked almost sad, maybe ashamed, his hands kneaded each other and he tensed.
"Let's...keep walking. Sunset is upon us"

The colosseum was in the distance, impossible to miss...even someone who didn't come to the capitol often knew of this, and she wondered if it had something to do with Thorn's comments. Carnation tugged her sleeve down more to make sure it covered her fire markings, otherwise, she'd end up in there.
In the colosseum, were the prisoners of war, other elements and mixes who spied or lied (like Carnation!) and instead of being killed, they suffered a fate worse than death. All day, all night, prisoners of bloody, bloody war, threw each other onto the ground and stomped each other dead.

Carnation had more than enough muscle to do that if she wanted, but she didn't want that.
Killing that veiled woman was enough death for a lifetime ten times over, and with that thought, Carnation grew nauseous enough that she had to grab onto Thorn's arm for stability.
He didn't seem to mind, in fact he walked straighter, with more importance.

"Oh...my...stars.." Carnation sputtered when Thorn directed her left instead of right. The colosseum may have been eye catching, but the castle was more, it was more in every sense of the word, it stood strong as oaks, white and glistening clean, but with the gnots of a tree to remind the visitor this was Fyta, this was Fyta's pride and Fyta's joy.

The towers piercing the sky had no more beauty than the lush and colourful gardens, nor the lineup of ivory statues of royals long dead, nor the biggest gate Carnation had ever seen separating her from all of these.

Thorn's hand slid down her arm to clutch her hand.
Two female guards on either side of the gate glared down from their posts, one of them was older looking, with a scowl that looked forced into place by years of scars, the other, was young, with beautiful soft brown skin and hair, and bright young eyes.
She didn't look fit for a guard, but then again, Carnation didn't look fit for a princess.

Thorn kissed the back of Carnation's hand (again), and waved at the guards up in their posts.
"In case you've forgotten my visage, it is I- yes, yes friends, it is Thorn, whom, I recall, is your supervisor. And whom, I recall didn't have to ask permission to enter."

The older guard folded her arms.
"In case you haven't noticed, there's a woman on your arm." She grunted.

Thorn rolled his eyes and Carnation attempted to flash a fake but charming smile.
"I am Princess Pyre of Fotia!" She said, then, for emphasis, added jazz hands.
"Allow me entry for political reasons!"

The guard leaned her head on her hand, looking uninterested or, perhaps, disbelieving.
"Thorn?"

The man scoffed and nodded, and the gate was opened.
"Apologies for the delay, your Majesty." Thorn whispered as he led Carnation through. The young guard smiled and waved enthusiastically, which Carnation thought was just adorable.
She returned the gesture with just as much joy (and some nervousness, of course).

The ground was a stone path that looked just cleaned, and both the duos heels clicked against it in a satisfying clack.
It wasn't long until they reached the doors and the clacking stopped. No guards to open these ones.
Thorn turned to Carnation, and she raised an eyebrow about to ask if there was a problem.
He put his hands on his hips and leaned back on his heel, exhaling loudly.
"Princess Pyre...I don't know what your welcome will look like."

"Oh, I don't need a big party!" Carnation assured.

"That's not what I mean." Thorn sighed.
Instead of explaining, he swallowed nervously and straightened his tie,
"It could be -could be- unpleasant. Don't draw any weapon, it only provokes them."
Hand on the doorknob he faced away from Carnation, but he chuckled in an unamused sort of disbelieving way, as if he knew now the whole situation was as insane as Carnation knew it was.