Small Magic

[Josette]

There was something so pretentious about castles.

So many of the castles Josette had visited were flashy affairs. They loomed far taller than they needed to, clearly compensating for something, if you asked her. Ornate stained glass caught the sun, spilling colorful patterns of light into long hallways. Tapestries adorned the walls, rugs lined the floors, and suits of armor that had never seen battle stood guard over nearly every room. Castles were fine, Josette admitted, when serving their intended purpose. These castles were for entertaining, for showing off, not for withstanding an attack. They cried, “look at me, I have enough money for twenty-seven horse-hair couches, an indoor grotto, and countless paintings of regal-looking people I have never met.”

This castle at least, Josette decided, was not the worst she had seen. The gardens were small, consisting of only the heartiest flowers and shrubs; no doubt there were only a handful of warm weeks in the Salvarian summer. She could see no stained glass, and there were no unnecessarily high towers to speak of. Yet the stone that formed the structure, while old, appeared nearly perfect. This castle, by Josette’s estimate, had seen hundreds of years of peace. What was the point? she thought dryly.

The same thought could be applied to the situation she found herself in. Josette Hawkes, brightest mind of her class, and certainly the best swordswoman, babysitting a royal brat. Her jaw worked as she reflected on it. What business did she have escorting a little girl anyway? Given the mass destruction she had been party to only a week before, she was better off escaping to a different region of Althanas entirely. That had been her plan, but when she had noticed the bulletin in the small town she was hunkered down in, the money was far too good to pass up. The work would be easy, and the pay would keep her set for months. More importantly, it would help her escape the prying eyes of Salvar. But that did not mean that the arcane knight was eager to tow a child around.

Josette heaved a sigh, raking long, thin fingers through her raven hair. The sudden movement startled the horse who stood beside her, and while he was too well-mannered to rear, he gave a snort of discomfort. Her heart, and her expression, softened. “Sorry,” she murmured, watching the bay gelding’s big ears cease their nervous swiveling, now entirely tuned into her. “I did not mean to scare you.”

Her mount gave a low nicker, akin to an annoyed grumble, and she could not help but laugh. “I appreciate the forgiveness,” she told him, fingers now reaching to scratch under his curb strap. The neatly trimmed whiskers told her that the horse had been recently cleaned up for his job. At least she could appreciate the attention they paid to their horses. So many others did not.

To her other side, a second gelding appeared to doze; his left rear hoof hovered lazily just above the hard-packed earth. This one was a soft gray, which played a sharp contrast to the black saddle and bridle he wore. This would be the princess’ mount, clearly mild-mannered enough to handle even a young girl. Josette hoped her charge knew how to ride. It would be a long three days if she had to keep chasing the girl down when her horse spooked, or scooping her up if she was thrown. Josette loosed another sigh, though this one was quieter, so not to frighten the horse. Who was she fooling? It would be a long three days regardless.