Bastian debated if they should go home, or check in with the Palace first.

  Rowen would want to know that he was alive and made it back in time for the wedding… and Bastian should probably give Mr Sakiyama some notice before dropping a lady-of-the-house on the fae.

  As such, he sent off a runner to his estate and then asked his companions if they would like to walk or commission a rickshaw to travel through the city.

  “What’s a rickshaw?” Peregrine asked, happily looking at all of the sights. There were a hundred different people walking the streets, shops and stalls everywhere, and various transport vehicles racing by.

  Only a few roads were wide enough to support full carriages, and only two bridges. Instead, most everyone got around on foot or by small single person pulled carts with various covers and seats.

  “One of those,” Bastian pointed to a rickshaw without a cover, hired by a troll and her little girl. The driver was a friendly looking cougar beastman, who helped the pair aboard and then set off running.

  “Absolutely the rickshaw,” Peregrine stated, her eyes bright. Lish looked less than happy about catching a ride, and refused to stow the chest under their seat as requested, but a few extra coins soothed the exasperated lizardkin driver he'd hailed down.

  The ride took them through the wealthier side of the city, where shops catered to spa treatments and high fashion. As they passed, Bastian made note of shops he’d like to take Peregrine to visit, and took the time to explain the districts and where various side streets connected. It was probably too much to all take in all at once, but it was fun just talking about his home.

  “That ink shop is owned by a cantankerous old fox who likes to pretend he isn’t there until he jump scares you at the till. And Lady Ophelia’s Imports is the only shop you can find Duchess Callisto’s wares shipped directly from North Sumbria - I have an engineered sewing machine that magically stitches different pre-set patterns from her. And over there is the O’Malley’s - best bards and drinks in Vitol.”

  “Do you frequent many taverns?” Lish asked, one hand clutching her luggage and the other gripping the side of the rickshaw for dear life.

  “Yes.” Bastian sighed, remembering all too well the hours he’d spent combing the rowdy, the beautiful and the unsavory depths of Vitol. He explained, “Their Royal Highness enjoys touring the city and I am their head guard. I dare say I’ve been to every single tavern in Vitol at least twice this year.”

  “I can’t imagine our queen leaving the palace without at least five attendants and ten royal guards.” Lish sniffed.

  Peregrine mused. “Of course not - they couldn’t even go see Minstrel Bronwynn perform without an assassination attempt.”

  Bastian could imagine. Rowen almost died in a bathtub of molten ash vane - and they were well loved by their people; whereas Sumbria had an active rebel army and a constant stream of assassination requests posted on the Peldeep Assembly job board.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  He thought better than to voice his opinion though, choosing instead to change the topic, “If you look over that way, you can see the apple blossoms to the left of the palace gates. There are trees inside the royal gardens too, but these stretch north around the palace to the river.”

  They passed his own estate, but it was four streets over and not worth mentioning because it wasn’t in sight. Instead, Bastian drew their attention to the white and pink flowers that peaked in the distance. Many of the houses in Peldeep were surrounded by a wall only as tall as an elf. Each decorated with hanging garlands and flowers, glow stones and greenery. Within, the dwellings varied from one to three stories tall, with sloped roofs and swooped awnings. They were as striking as they were impressive, and many had their own fruit trees in full bloom.

  “Lovely,” Peregrine breathed, taking it all in.

  “I’d like to go together, if we have the time to slip away.” Bastian told her.

  His fiance nodded, her hand sliding down and finding his. “I’d like that.”

  The Emerald Palace was especially striking against the apple blossoms, its green polished surface shining under the gentle spring sunshine. The walls surrounding it were not made of wood or stone, but cold iron and white clay. The clay was set with precious stones, and cut with intricate patterns from an elite crafter. Inside, smaller buildings popped up around the Emerald Palace. On the south side, the parliament and royal library stood two stories tall and sported white clay walls and an enchanted emerald roof.

  Bastian knew there were three smaller palaces used by the royal heirs or guests. That was where the Sumbrian dignitary would live when he arrived. Another task Bastian needed to make sure was handled while visiting the palace today.

  “This is as far as I can take you.” Their driver said, pulling them slightly off to the side so that they weren’t in the way of people coming and going from the main gates. Ministers, knights, royals, and more used this road, and while it wasn’t a crush like in the city, it was still busy.

  Bastian hopped down first, offering Peregrine and then Lish his hand. Peregrine didn’t think anything of it, but Lish refused, holding her luggage with both hands and jumping down elegantly. He didn’t force it. Lish would warm up to him in her own time, he was sure. She took her place close behind her mistress while Bastian paid their driver.

  “Usually you would need an emerald medallion to get through the gates,” Bastian explained as he ushered the ladies through the final stretch. “We will make sure to get you both one before you leave today. It won’t get you into the Emerald Palace itself, but you can use it to go to access any of the public service buildings like the courts or the library - or the barracks, which is where I’ll be if you need me.”

  Bastian pointed to the east, where his work was hidden behind the palace walls. Still, they would see it as soon as they passed through the gates.

  “Do we have time to visit – wait, no.” Peregrine started and then changed her mind halfway. At his raised eyebrow she said, “When I visit your work, I should bring gifts!”

  Bastian said, smiling at the idea “I don’t think you need to bring gifts. What would you even bring?”

  “Snacks?” Peregrine considered. “My father always used his magic to make cold citron juice for the clothiers working in the queen’s wardrobe, but I can’t use ice magic, so sandwiches might have to do. Unless there is something you recommend?”

  “There are eighty-six knights in the palace… and you would make sandwiches for every one of them?” He asked, amusement clear in his voice.

  “Maybe… I don’t know if I’ll have the time.” Peregrine admitted, “But I’m sure I could find something in the city. Is there a pastry shop near–”

  “Knight Commander!” A familiar voice cut into their conversation.

  “Sir Rebecca?”

  “Thank goodness you’re back.” The lizardkin looked downright haggard as she stood in the gateway to the palace. Her mohawk was slightly slumped, and her breathing was hitched as if she’d run herself to exhaustion.

  “What’s happened?” He slipped into work mode, worried at what the knight might say but already expecting the answer.

  “It’s Their Royal Highness,” Sir Rebecca said. “They’ve disappeared.”