The rise and fall motion beneath her startled her at first as she tried to focus on breathing in rhythm with it.
When she stepped, she breathed, stepped, breathed, and so it continued. Thankfully, the ride was calm and slow, allowing her to adapt quickly to the movent and the slap of the weather.
Lucrezia knew, without the slightest doubt, that their pace had gentled because of her. The realization stirred a quiet gratitude within her chest but it was laced with sothing heavier; a familiar ache, like a quiet feeling, a weight others adjusted themselves to carry.
Eventually, they passed through the rear gate and onto a descending road that curved toward the lower district of Blackvale. For the first ti, Lucrezia actually saw beyond the walls of the palace, and how magnificent it was without marble or decree.
Blackvale did not sprawl carelessly through the surface. It descended in deliberate tiers carved into the mountainside, and slate rooftops stepping downward. Wondrous birds kissed the misty sky, grim spires, chiseled gargoyles, and magnificent edifices. It painted the picture of an archaic empire with ruthless dominion. Smoke curled from chimneys in pale ribbons, dissolving into the silver-washed sky.
Bridges of dark iron arched over narrow streets, connecting one level of the town to another like veins threading through stone.
Lanterns hung unlit in the daylight, with their colored glass catching the sun in fractured gleams of amber and crimsons, and banners stretched between buildings. It was stitched in deep blues and winter reds, as their edges snapped sharply in the cold wind.
It was absolutely breathtaking.
The palace, from here, looked less like a prison and more like a crown perched upon the highest point of the city where it still lood. But it no longer swallowed everything else whole. It was a whole in itself.
Lucrezia maintained her grip around Vespera’s waist, unable to quench the dire need to feed her intrigue.
As they continued downward, the air slowly changed. It carried a woodsmoke scent thickened with spice, baked bread, and sugared almonds roasting in pans. The faint sweetness of cider drifted upward, mingling with the sharper tang of iron from a nearby smith. They descended along a sloping road carved into dark stone, the path widening as it curved toward the lower district. Not long after, sounds reached them before the sight did, breaking the silence that ca along the ride.
At first, it was distant, like a heartbeat heard through walls, until it grew louder after they rounded the final bend, where the town opened before them.
Lucrezia’s jaw dropped in astonishnt.
Music rose in bright ribbons with flutes dancing over steady drumbeats, and fiddles weaving playful lodies that refused to stay still. Laughter broke between conversations while rchants called out their wares. Even canopies in deep crimson and forest green stretched over wooden stalls.
The air was... alive. With people... humans or gods, Lucrezia couldn’t tell, but it was alive. Half of what she expected of a fair belonged to the gods.
Vendors called out prices and praises that filled the air as children darted with sugared pastries clutched in their hands. Lucrezia found herself instantly captivated, unable to hide the awe that brightened her eyes at what was being displayed.
A musician stood atop a crate, bow dancing across strings as a small crowd clapped in rhythm. The scent of roasted nuts, warm bread, and spiced cider drifted upward in welcoming waves, causing her mouth to water.
Everything felt normal. Normal in a way that caused the tension inside her chest to loosen more, paving the way for the soothing lody of the music drifting through the air.
Lucrezia’s senses sharpened instinctively. At that mont, she could hear the crackle of oil in a pan from across the square, the faint clink of coins exchanging hands, the rustle of silk against wool, and the low murmur of private conversations threaded between louder celebration.
But here... right here, it did not hurt.
The realization seed to terrify her more than the relief. The noise felt human and grounded. Lucrezia tried to shift her focus elsewhere.
Vespera slowed Purity to a asured walk as they entered the outskirts of the fair. So townsfolk glanced their way, offering respectful nods while others pretended not to recognize her at all.
The shawl shadowed Lucrezia’s features just enough that no one lingered on her face. She was simply another woman on horseback.
An inaudible sigh escaped her lips.
They rode slowly through the market, with Vespera occasionally gesturing subtly. "Mayhem is known to be Winter’s first market. It happens occasionally when the snow settles deeply and the chill grows sharp enough to bite. On such days, the roads awaken with life, and traders erge from distant villages to earn a living." Vespera explained over her shoulder with a tone almost pleased.
Lucrezia heard her say, and she absorbed the knowledge with a crease between her brows.
"Earn a living?" It shouldn’t have sounded absurd, but the thought of it did. What more did they lack in the land of the gods?
"Everything isn’t all white, Anastasia. Blackvale was nad after its significance," She said, guiding Purity into a slower walk. "Despite its quietude, folks work day and night to earn a living, provide food and shelter for their loved ones, and cater to themselves. Our main purpose is to offer guidance and protection against otherworldly creatures,"
Oh, Lucrezia thought. Otherworldly creatures... The thought of it made her recall her dream, and a cold shiver crept down her spine.
Taking a slow breath to dwindle the mory, Lucrezia leaned slightly to see past her.
Color greeted her in defiance of the season. Canopies stretched over wooden stalls in deep burgundy, forest green, and royal blue. Strips of fabric fluttered overhead like banners, and tables overflowed with polished trinkets, carved figurines, glass bottles filled with amber liquids, woven scarves, sugared fruits glistening under a thin glaze of syrup.
Everything was alive.
And it was not the life of marble halls, historical dominion, and asured silence, but that of the people.
Vespera guided Purity to a slower walk as they entered the outer ring of the town square. People stepped aside respectfully, though not with the rigid reverence Lucrezia had witnessed within the palace. There were bows, yes, but softer. And if possible, more... familiar.
"Do they know you?" Lucrezia asked quietly.
"So do," Vespera replied over her shoulder. "So pretend not to."
There was sothing almost mischievous in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed, and the Lady smirked before turning her full attention away.
Lucrezia adjusted the shawl slightly over her hair. She felt the shift imdiately—the difference between being stared at and simply passed by. Eyes slid over her without lingering as no one searched her face for expectation.
The anonymity wrapped around her like a second skin, which made her feel oddly better.
They rode through the fair at an unhurried pace. Throughout Vespera pointed things out as they passed, sharing knowledge and introspection, and Lucrezia absorbed the new information.
Such as knowing that the candied root displayed at the forest green stall tastes better than it looks, the old woman near the fountain sells charms that only work if you don’t believe in them, and the musician over there has been playing the sa lody for three winters.
Lucrezia found herself smiling despite the lingering tremor in her hands.
Her heightened senses did not disappear, but here, they felt different. The sizzle of oil from a food stall no longer pierced her skull blended with the rhythm of hooves and music. The chatter of vendors layered like waves, though she could still hear more than she should.
Mortality’s noise carried warmth, and such made it easier.
They eventually dismounted near the inner part of the square, where the crowd thinned slightly. Vespera secured Purity to a carved iron post while a stable boy—barely older than a child—approached to take gentle hold of the reins.
Carefully, "Is it wise to leave her here?" Lucrezia couldn’t help but ask, unable to keep the concern from her voice as her eyes followed the swift movent of the boy as he handled Purity.
Vespera glanced at her, looking amused. "Oh, no. I’ve known Thomas for almost a century now," She said lightly and gave the boy an easy nod as he guided Purity to the rows of waiting horses. "If anything, Purity is in the best hands,"
Lucrezia blinked. "A-A century?" If she were taking sothing, she would’ve choked on her words.
Noticing her shock, Vespera added, saying, "He’s one of us. Unfortunately, Thomas wasn’t gifted with the ability to grow like most of us. You see a boy, and we see an old man,"
Her eyes were as wide as a saucer, unable to take her sight off the little... man who smiled in return. Before her mouth could react before her brain, Vespera pulled her softly.
"Co," She urged.
And with that, they turned and walked away, leaving the open street behind as they slipped into a narrower one where the buildings leaned closer together.
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