"Achoo!"
"Ugh," Luard said, wiping his nose with an embroidered handkerchief. "I forgot how much I hate grass."
After another two days in the mountain, we finally reached the end of the tunnel. The soft light became blinding, and I took refuge inside the dark carriage with Luard until my eyes adjusted. Although we traveled on a main gravel road, it was flanked on either side by large swaths of farmland, some with wheat, some with fruit trees, and others with produce I didn't recognize from far away. There seemed to be few people, but perhaps that was just the nature of things here.
"Are we in Kulka yet?" I asked.
"No," he said, blowing into the cloth. "About half a day's ride until we get there—and trust me, you'll know when we reach it." He leaned back on his hands, sniffing loudly. "This Mother-forsaken land is the one part of Niemen that actually produces food for the country. It's our most treasured possession. And something the Kulkans desperately want."
"I can only handle one country's turmoil," I said with a laugh. "So don't ask me to negotiate that, too."
He reached across the carriage and patted my knee. The journey out of the mountain had also given me time to ponder the breakthrough we'd had in the mines. I wasn't ready to stomach the idea of killing, so I put that in the back of my mind. I would continue on to Kulka and give Neshua my best attempt.
And if he denied me, so be it. But at least I'd know I gave it my all.
As the day drew on, we saw more Niemenian guards encamped along the road. Then, a long line of tents and a makeshift wall of wooden posts that stretched as far as the eye could see. I glanced at Luard, who seemed more preoccupied with his draining nose than with the guards.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and raised voices drew me outside. There, two Kulkan guards dressed in forest green uniforms stood with their swords drawn, preventing us from going any further. There was also a large pike in the center of the road, and more Kulkan guards behind it.
"What's going on?" I asked Hagan.
"Just the usual," he said, hopping down. "Good afternoon, we're seeking passage into Kulka."
The guard on the left put his sword down. "You got papers?"
"Of course we do," Ivan said, plucking an envelope from behind the top cushion along with a bag of coins. "Prince Luard from the kingdom of Niemen."
The guard read the letter and picked through the coins. Then he spotted me. "And who's the girl? She don't look Niemenian."
"Lady Larissa," Luard said, poking his head out and pressing his hand to the small of my back. "We're newly married. She's the daughter of a Forcadelian shipping magnate. Super rich. Great in the sack. We're on our honeymoon."
I craned my neck up at him with narrowed eyes. "Really?"
"All right," the guard said, folding up the letter and handing it back to Ivan. "Where are you headed?"
"Delina," Luard said with a grin. "I want to show my new lady the vineyards and see how frisky she gets when she's drunk."
The guard was grinning at me like I was naked, but he gave the word to clear the road so we could pass. Luard and I clambered back inside, and the carriage moved forward.
"Really? Great in the sack, huh?" I crossed my arms.
"I have a reputation," he said, wiping his nose. "They wouldn't believe I would willingly be married. I had to make it seem like you're worth the hassle. And I'd prefer to keep your real identity a secret here in Kulka, at least until we know how Neshua will receive you."
"Thanks," I said, leaning back. "I suppose it worked, though."
"Of course it did." He sat back and closed his eyes. "Offer's still open if you want to consummate—"
"I think I'm good."
I'd thought the farmlands of Niemen were impressive, but Kulka truly was worthy of its reputation as a farming nation. Green, rolling hills extended as far as the eye could see. We passed every kind of produce, from fruit trees to low vegetable patches to blooming vineyards. At night, we stopped in small villages of maybe fifty people, eating our fill of sweet peaches and succulent lamb and sleeping on beds filled with goose down.
The more I saw of the nation, the more I thought about how all of this could've been mine had I not run away. At the time, the notion of leaving Forcadel, of being alone in a foreign land, had been terrifying. Now, I didn't find the prospect so scary. I'd been to nearly every country in this continent in the past few weeks, and I'd managed just fine. Perhaps there was something to everyone's faith in me.
On the second day of travel, we passed by a mound of what appeared to be perfectly ripe apples by the side of the road.
"What is this nonsense?" Luard asked as the carriage rolled to a stop.
"Maybe they need help," I said, climbing out of the carriage.
In the distance, a middle-aged woman was walking toward us with a wagonful of apples. She didn't look in danger, but I still wanted to investigate. I hopped the low fence and walked toward her.
"Good afternoon," I called to her. "Are you well?"
"As well as anyone in this country," she barked back. "Are you looking for food? Ten gold coins for this bushel."
I released a short laugh. "I mean…there's a perfectly edible pile by the road. Did you mean to do that?"
"'Course," she said. "And you can take that pile if you want, I guess. You just looked like fancy rich people who have money to spend on an old woman."
She wasn't old, but I didn't want to argue the point. "Why are you throwing out all this food?"
"Ain't got nowhere to sell it anymore," she said with a shake of her head. "With all the borders closed with Forcadel, we can't get our goods down there. There's no point in even going to market here in Kulka. Too many other vendors in competition with each other."
"Surely, there's someone who could eat that food," Luard said.
"They can eat off the side of the road, I guess." She picked up the wagon and walked back down the dusty road toward her farmhouse.
"I'm sure Neshua will love to hear that his people have nowhere to sell their goods," Luard said with a knowing look. "And I'm sure the people of Forcadel are missing their fresh food. More ammunition for your meeting."
We had no need for the food, so we carried on, although I kept the woman's dejected face in my mind's eye. All that food would've gone to Forcadel. Were people starving in my country now?
And more importantly, did Ilara care about them?
The answer was clear—if she did, she wouldn't keep the gates closed out of some petty, vindictive need for people to acknowledge her.
My fists balled as hot anger surged through me. Katarine had spoken at length about the delicate trade balance between Kulka, Forcadel, and Niemen. Then, I'd thought it was easy to simply give up and shift pieces to make things more equal. Ilara had proven just how much we relied on these other countries—and how much they relied on us.
"You look like you're about to deck someone," Luard said.
"Maybe I am."
He chuckled. "Keep that righteous fire alive. You'll need it when you meet with Neshua."
Four days after we left the border, we arrived in Delina. It was a quaint city, perhaps the most sprawling of the three capital cities I'd been to in the past few weeks. It was dirtier, too, with clay-colored roads and patches of grass growing from beneath whatever stones had been laid. Still, the people were well-dressed and well-fed, and seemed not to care that a Niemenian entourage had rolled into their capital city.
"Where's the castle?" I asked, peering out of the window. I expected to see it rising somewhere among the low buildings.
"Oh, it's an ugly thing," he said. "Takes up a large footprint, but not very tall. Over near the water."
"That's right, we're near the water again, aren't we?" I said. "How long would it take for a ship from Delina to get to Forcadel?"
He dabbed his nose. Now that we were out of the grass, his allergies seemed to have calmed somewhat. "Ships usually hug the coastline from here to Neveri, then cut through the Vanhoja river down to Forcadel Bay. But, of course, there's a blockade on both the bay and the river, so…"
The carriage stopped abruptly, and Luard and I shared a look when we heard Ivan shouting. With my hand on my knives, I opened the door, Luard right behind me. Preventing us from moving any further was a gaggle of Kulkan guards, all of whom had their swords pointed at us.
"What is the meaning of this?" Luard said, climbing out of the carriage. "Do you not see the… Oh."
"Oh?" I looked over his shoulder, then I caught who he was looking at. "Oh."
"Do they not teach you manners in Niemen? When one enters a foreign country, one must announce his presence to the royal family."
Ammon, Crown Prince of Kulka and my former fiancé, stood in front of ten guards. I only recognized him due to the gold crown on his head, as he looked nothing like the frog-faced boy who'd come to Forcadel to sign the peace treaty between our nations. The man before me now was roguishly handsome, with thick lips and large, green eyes that seemed to look straight through me. I wasn't in the market for a husband anymore, but I probably could've grown to love him if he'd turned out like this.
"Well, considering we haven't actually made it three feet inside the capital city, I don't see how we could've announced ourselves before now," Luard said, an easy smile on his face. "I've visited your fair country many times, Ammon. You've never paid me a personal visit before."
His eyes darted to me. Did he recognize me? "My guards informed me you'd taken a wife. I knew that to be false, so I wanted to see for myself what kind of Forcadelian whore you were dragging into my country."
"I'm not sure which offends me more, that you think it was a lie that I'm married or my choice in bride," Luard said with a glance at me. "Prince Ammon, may I introduce Princess Brynna-Larissa Archer Rhodes Lonsdale."
I gawked at Luard. Clearly, he was no longer concerned about keeping my identity a secret.
"W… Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Ammon's eyes bulged, reminding me of the boy he'd been, and his hand slid off his pommel.
"That's what they keep telling me," I said with a hesitant smile. Luard nudged me softly and I cleared my throat, stepping out of the carriage. "I'm here to speak with your father. Would you mind giving us an escort?"
His sharp eyes narrowed and he lost whatever surprise had captured him. A cruel smile twisted onto his thin lips, giving him something of a ratlike expression. "Please tell me you're here to ask for asylum from the Severian queen."
"No, I'm not," I said slowly. "Why?"
"Because I'd love the pleasure of denying it to you," he said, resting his hand on his sword once more. "Whatever issue you may have, I'm afraid you'll have to deal with it alone. My father won't want to speak with you, and, frankly, neither do I."
I couldn't believe my ears. "Don't be petty, Ammon. I'm sorry I didn't marry you, but—"
"Brynn, not a wise choice," Luard muttered beside me.
"From what I hear, I came out on the better end of things." Ammon sniffed, his gaze dropping to my muddy boots. "After all, I'm still a prince and you're…well, a ghost."
I opened my mouth to continue our repartee, but Luard caught my eye. I wiped the annoyance off my face. "From what I hear, Ammon, the Kulkans aren't too pleased with Ilara, either. Iron gates closed, trade routes disrupted." I paused and shrugged. "Only so much food you can produce and eat without shipping it to the other countries, right?"
"It's not an ideal situation," he said, after a long pause. "Our envoys aren't having much luck with her. But I have faith the logjam will end, and we'll be back to an amicable solution. Better, perhaps, than when the Lonsdales ruled."
"I hear all it takes is for you to accept her as the rightful queen of Forcadel," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "Which begs the question, if you hate me so much, why hasn't your father accepted her?"
He cleared his throat, a little pink appearing on the tops of his cheeks. "My father isn't convinced her reign will last. But I am."
"Such a fan of Ilara, are you?" I asked.
"More a fan of her than you."
I barked a laugh. "Oh, get over yourself. Aren't you already married with two kids? Little desperate to be so mad over someone you barely knew."
"You ran out on an official treaty," he snarled. "And, to date, Forcadel's end of the bargain remains unfulfilled. In my eyes, that makes you untrustworthy."
I took a step toward him. "You and I both know that Ilara's ruining Forcadel, and when Forcadel's ruined, so is the Kulkan economy, so quit being such a little sh—"
"Brynna," Luard snapped, reminding me that I was in a foreign country and addressing the crown prince.
I straightened, embarrassment warming my cheeks. "Listen, all I need is an audience with your father. Then we will be on our way."
"It's common courtesy," Luard added. "As one royal to another."
Ammon was silent for a long time, chewing on his ample lips and thinking. Then he straightened, another ominous smile curling onto his face. "Fine, I'll take you to my father."
My mouth fell open in surprise. "R-really?"
"Oh, of course." That cruel smile widened, and my hope disappeared like a candle blowing out. "He's been in such a morose mood lately. It will be nice to give him a good laugh. And you, dear former fiancé, are quite the joke."