42
Cecilia lazily admired the heavy fog dancing across horizon as her carriage rambled along the stone lined road carved in the impossibly wet landscape. The effect of the barely there sunlight filtering though the haze was breathtaking. There was a certain smell in the air that convinced the redhead it would rain that evening. At her side Beth was snoring with the ferocity of a dragon but Cecilia didn't have the heart to wake her up. Poor thing was already overworked as it is acting like multiple maids at once. Even Simon perched on the seat outside the carriage had stopped talking which was a miracle sent from above.
They were changing camps and moving to another location much to her dismay. The flower was nowhere to be found in their last two locations and they were on their way to a third. She prayed in her heart this would be their last stop before they found the flower and made the cure. Damian and Delilah were depending on her. The kingdom would fall apart if the plague continued to ravage the countryside.
Her thoughts were disturbed by the slowing pace of her carriage. She leaned out of her window to observe the situation. Her carriage was in a long line of carriages and carts carrying all sorts of personnel and equipment. The cart in front of her seemed to be carrying Barring's odious feather bed and it had slowed down to an unbearable pace. A soldier on the side of the stone pathway was waving the slow moving procession ahead and she called out at him.
"What seems to be the problem, Soldier?"
The man's eyes went so wide the whites of his eyes dominated his face.
"L-Lady,there was some trouble with one of the carts but it's.. it's-" He trailed off with a gulp as if her previous illness was going to catch him any moment.
Cecilia rolled her eyes at the man's sheer fright at her sudden appearance and crossed her arms grumpily taking her previous position. Beth was still snoring unperturbed by the delay.
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Once at the campsite the men set out to laying the perimeter and pegging down the white canvas tents. The first tent to go up was their research lair. It was where the men would gather everyday to compare notes and progress after a hard day of work of crawling all over the terrain looking for the illusive flower.
The research team were having their first meeting at the new location and yet again failed to inform her of it. It was only by luck she noticed dirt covered Lord Fanning ducking into the tent while she was making her way to find the stranger. She changed her paths and followed the tall, pompous man inside. The guards were too pigeon hearted to say a word. She smiled approvingly at their placidness.
The team was sitting around a flimsy fold-able table with mounds of paperhanging over the edges. A chalkboard was covered with a map of the countryside along with a terrible rendition of the flower. She wondered who the abysmal artist was.
She sat down primly adjusting her velvet skirts unnecessarily. They ignored her presence and continued with the meeting as if she wasn't there which was a relief. She vastly preferred it to being frogmarched out like an insolent child. Sir Russell was furiously jotting down on a sheet of paper, leaving ink splotches everywhere when she arrived and began announcing timings for the lead researchers to head out with the troops. Lord Fanning then started informing them about his findings of the areas he had searched in.
Cecilia ignored his babbling and perused the stack of papers in front of her.She found a traced out likeness of the flower in the middle of someillegible notes. She smiled instantly recognizing the creator andmade up her mind to rectify the mistake in front of her.
"What-"Lord Fanning blurted out as he watched her stand and remove traces ofthe flower from the chalkboard. All the other men stared.
"This drawing is very unfortunate looking," The redhead remarked with a cocked head and began making her own version of the flower. Unlike her cousin she didn't need to trace anything out. While not the best she could draw as good as any other young lady of her social circle.
Sir Russell cleared his throat and curtly asked Lord Fanning to continue.It seemed she would be allowed to get away with a lot now that her purpose on the trip had been revealed. It was silly she had urged her cousin not to reveal what had happened to her to her journey fellows.The stigma of the plague had been too real so she had kept her reasons for traveling hidden. In the city near the southern border there were cases of people turning against both friend and family,sending anyone suspected of the plague to the quarantine whether there were any symptoms or not. She felt she was justified in her decision even though she was treated like an abysmal fool because of the secrecy.
As the droning behind her continued in a few easy motions she had the flower looking much truer to life. She turned around with a flourish and sat back on her chair and watched the reaction of the group.
Lord fanning looked sick in the face being in the same room as her. Coward Cecilia thought meanly. The rest of the group remained quiet.
"The matter we must discuss now is of the injured man currently under the care of Barrings. He is much improved though obviously is incapable of any movement."
"We shall dispose off him in the next town," Clyde Chester drawled in his usual irritating fashion.
"That's an absurd proposition. Don't you want to find out who he is?"Cecilia wondered out aloud.
"My Lady, we are not in a adventure novel. We are on a very serious mission to save our kingdom. We do not have time or energy to devote to our mysterious new guest who has no recollection of who he is. I do not buy his explanation and neither should you. A young lady like yourself should be a tad bit more careful."
"I understand he is not valuable to our mission but he is gravely injured and it pains me to say this but no one else in this region could possibly be as competent as Barrings to heal him," Cecilia implored.
"I understand your concerns, Lady Cecilia," Sir Russell interjected,gravely, "We will have this discussion once we are closer to civilization. Right now we will have no intentions of leaving our camping point."
Both Clyde and Cecilia nodded feeling confident their point of view was more valid than the others.
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Once the meeting ended Cecilia did not even hesitate to wait for the others to get up. She knew where she was going. Simon followed her, chattering about the wind or the weather. She shushed her guard once they reached her destination and let him lounge outside the enclosure.
The man inside was awake though she questioned his state of alertness. He was staring at the flap of his tent blowing in the breeze.
"Hello...there!" Cecilia waved awkwardly. He was still not wearing a shirt. She didn't know where to look. It was decided his face was her best bet to ensure minimum embarrassment.
The stranger's eyes also paused on her face. He did not seem surprised to see her.
"I understand my constant appearances must be a bother and for that I apologise but since you have no other visitors it seems it is my duty to be at your sick bed."
The brown eyed man just raised his eyebrow.
"I accept your apology, my lady," The man replied. His voice held no overt emotions whatsoever but it still seemed like he was mocking her.Cecilia harrumphed wondering why her effort of saving his life was not met with more graciousness.
The Lady noticed a ring on his finger as she surveyed his folded arms.
"It looks like a family heirloom," She gestured toward his hand as she moved forward to take a closer look. Cecilia belatedly remembered her vow to keep her distance. Her pasty face would turn into such a horrible shade of red if she continued staring at him. He was just so pretty.
"Do men in the eastern wear a lot of jewellery?" The words were uttered as mere distraction.
"Am I even from the eastern country? For all I know I could be from here."
"True, true, we are at the border. The ambiguity is far more present here then at the centres. Besides you speak our language with fluency. I cannot discern it's not your mother tongue."
The man sighed and he fluently spoke to her in another language
and then without pause another
and then another.
Cecilia was so startled her mouth gaped in shock. She suddenly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Oh, what a mess, you could be from any where. Nothing in any of your speech indicates your mother tongue. Oh, if only Delilah were here, she would find a way."
"Princess Delilah?" The man cocked his head looking curious for the first time.
"You know her?!" The red head exclaimed. This was the first time the stranger indicated he could remember anyone.
"I feel like I've heard about her, a lot!" The man's forehead was furrowed as if trying to recollect something.
"She is the princess of this land. She will be queen one day, of course you must have heard of her. The real amazement is that you recall her existence."
"No, it's something else. I just- I just don't know why I can feel like I can -"
Simon raced into the camp breaking the moment of concentration. Cecilia bit back an aggressive curse but the panicked guard's face paused her chain of thought.
"We're being attacked, My Lady."
