Chapter five 

Aster and Basil watched as the myriad of people carried loads of trunks and boxes, all seeming in a hurry, as Fin king Cyrus’s manservant bellowed above the bustling sound to be heard, herding and directing them to where things should go. 

It was like watching a circus, packing things that hardly seemed necessary, Clover was abuzz with excitement, bouncing to look at everything she could, Cyrus chuckles, standing beside her, answering any and all questions that tumbled from her fine red lips. 

“The wind is cautious today,” Basil spoke in a whisper, Aster looked up and round feeling the air's gentle touch on her skin, she sighed, it whistled in a voice which only she and her siblings could hear if they listened. It seemed as well as Aster and Basil, some of the elements were hesitant about Clover's soulmate as well. 

From the moment any of the three could remember, they had a connection with nature, with the fires, winds and waters. The trees would greet them, the ground would soften and sprout flowers where they stepped,  the birds would sing their hellos and birch on their shoulders, and animals would gather at their feet. They even knew the ancient tongue of the earth, a language forgotten, and only a few words known to those who practice the magical arts but even to them they would not know what the wind said to them, nor what a sparrow would swark about. But the siblings had always known it was clear to them as the words spoken by the people around them. It was an innate part of their spirit and soul. Which made Aster worry all the more for her sister, she was the one who gave into her attunement to nature the most, it scared her to think that her king would not love Clover the same if he knew their truth.

“She’s too dazzled to think,” Aster sighed, “you know what she’s like, when she's happy, what if, roses begin to sprout from her hair?” 

“That won’t happen,” 

Aster looked at her brother with a blank expression, “I had seen her once grow lilies in her sleep. I woke up to a bloody garden in our room!” she shrieked, “it was only because she dreamt she had a cake to herself. A cake Basil,” 

Basil ignored his sister's rants, listening to the gentle spring wind as it huffed about the king of Spendia. 

A bird flew down to them perching madly about something, birds were always so hyper in the mornings. 

"Not now," Aster muttered, "we're in company." She whispered to the bird, who twitched it's head at her word. It landed on her shoulder and Aster sighed, "oh, alright." She gave in, rubbing the bird's chin and cheeks, it cooed happily, and Aster smiled, "she's the worst out of us for masking, she’ll out right talk to a squirrel in the middle of the street like a mad woman." 

"He'll think it's charming."

"Charmingly insane," Aster retorted. 

"He's too in love to notice anything amiss. Besides, he's too busy trying to win our approval." He smirked. 

"You think it's mean of us?"

"No, Clover is our baby sister, we need to be sure if he's right for her." 

"He's not." She grumbled. "Just try not to have his horses trample him." 

"No promises." They both giggled as she stared at one another, just as Clover skipped over to them. 

"We're going to be sitting in a real carriage." She gushed. 

"And we're standing in real dirt," Aster replied in the same tone. 

Clover furrowed her brows, "”this is exciting Aster,” she gritted. 

“Exciting as standing in dirt.” 

Clover turned away from her sister, "you know you'll have to have a room to yourself right? When we get Spendia." 

"I know!" Clover shouted, flushing with pink cheeks. 

"Are you sure?" Aster mocked, "because you seemed pretty scared last night to have a room to yourself and-"

"SHUT UP!" Clover screamed, steam practically floating from atop her head. She'd not admit that she was scared to after eighteen years to finally have a room to herself. 

Clover lay motionless, heaped in clean white coverlets, blankets, and fluffed feather pillows, stared aimlessly at the ceiling of her canopy bed. The silence was deafening, the large empty space daunting. It had not taken long for Clover to tiptoe barefoot, out her bed chamber and through the double doors to the corridor heading towards Aster's room, sneaking quietly to her bed, crawling in. Aster had said nothing glad that her large bag was not so lonely anymore. 

"Clover," the voice broke into Clover's festering embarrassment, jumping round to see Cyrus. "Are you ready to leave, my beloved?" 

Clover felt weak at the knees at the endearment, she nodded her rigorously. She held out his arm for her, which she gladly took. "I thought we may share the carriage and your brother and sister may have the other to themselves." 

Clover smiled, "sounds great." He chuckled, leading her away from her siblings, the two seemingly in their own dreamy world, ignoring the presence of everyone around them. 

Everyone who was to make the journey with the king and his newly found soulmate, were ushered to their carts and horses. Aster and Basil were directed to the carriage behind Clover's and the kings, never had they seen such luxury for a carriage. Clover was as amazed, her eyes glistening as she gazed around herself as she sat down the velvet cushions, there were furs and throws spread across the seats. 

"This is just for us?" 

"Of course, do you not like it? It is one of our less grander carriages, but when we are close to the captial, a new carriage will meet us, it will be much more grander than this, we use it for parades and celebrations." 

"You mean this isn't even your nicest carriage!"

Cyrus tried not to laugh at Clover, not wanting her to feel foolish, she knew nothing of the nobility, much less the workings of the lifestyle of royalty, he knew he would need to have her tutored in such things, but for now he wanted her to feel at ease as possible. 

"It is one of our comfortable carriages." He answered, "I normally travel alone here, but I feel it will be most welcoming to have you here with me." 

Clover blushed which Cyrus loved the look of, "i’ve never travelled before, let alone a carriage,” 

Cyrus reached out his hands to take Clovers, “my carriages, my riches, my lands will all be yours soon.” 

Clovers breath catched at the declaration, gasping as her hands lined with sweat. It was all she ever wanted to hear, his eyes held her captive. She knew nothing of him yet she knew his words rang true. Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them away. 

“I’m just an orphan,” Clover spoke, shaking her head in a quiet voice. The realisation of everything pouring on her, he loved her, wanted her, and she wanted him, it was not just a passing fancy like she had felt in the past for other men. She was going to be a queen, to go live at Cyrus’s court. 

He squeezed her hands, “as am i,” he rasped the words. 

“No, i mean, i don’t know anything about-” 

“You don’t need to, all you need to be is you.” For a moment, Cyrus thought he saw a grimace at his words, “I know the people will love you, and you’ll be a breeze of fresh air for the court.” 

Clover smiled, “if you say so,” she whispered. Cyrus stood the best he could in the small carriage, shuffling over to Clover's side, her hands still in his. “In meantime, i want to know everything i can possibly know about you.” he was afraid his voice came across too eager but, his fears subsided when she broke into laughter, her head falling back, snorting out giggles. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and would do anything to hear it again. 

"Should I start with my earliest memories?" A joke that felt serious to Cyrus’s ears, as Clover's voice fluttered with excitement and joy, reminiscing all she could remember of her early childhood. The two hardly noticed the moving of the carriage as guards and knights rode alongside on their noble steeds. 

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"....He was stuck on the roof for hours. No one could get him down. Some of the boys even tried to throw rocks at him," Clover grumbled. "So," she grinned, her eyes sparkling and leaned ever so closer to Cyrus on their velvet seat, "i climbed that rotted old ladder to the attic of the temple, Aster and Basil tried to stop me, Aster even tried to pull me down it when i was climbing up, the priestesses were shouting at me to get down. I thought the ladder was going to break from the pulling and tugging. I got so many splinters, the head priestess had to bandage my hands afterward once they pulled each one out." She made an expression of horror at the memory. "Once I got in the attic, I thought I was gonna fall through the floorboards. I had to walk like I was on ice." She excgarated, "The hatch to the roof was so rusted it was falling apart, it was the easiest bit of my recuse." Cyrus nodded at Clover's matter of fact tone, wanting to know the end of the tale. "Anyway, I crawled up onto the roof, i could practically see the whole city." She stretched out her arms as if demonstrating, "the poor kitty was terrified. He had always been a bit of a scaredy cat. The dumb boys weren't making it any better throwing things at him. He ran to me as soon as he saw me, jumped up into my arms. The whole street was watching at this point. The roof was slipy and my shoes which were worn through didn't have a grip, plus the height down below made me freeze in fear." She paused. "But with Dill in my arms I couldn’t get the both of us suck there so, I closed my eyes and slowly crept to the hatch and made my way in. The priestesses were so mad I thought they were going to explode into anger. They had given me a good beating too." Cyrus frown at this, 

"A beating? Was this common place at the orphanage?" 

Clover nodded, "it was the only way to keep us in check, with so many children and so few preistresses, I suppose they thought it was the only way." Cyrus gave a grave expression, but Clover carried on with her story. "The boys at the orphanage had later told me they made a bet about who'd get my bed, and food servings if I died on that roof. I had punched the idiots obviously. But the priestesses took their side, like always. But the head priestess understood, she said that I was a free spirit." 

Cyrus chuckled, "I can agree to that." 

"I was glad when the next month one of the boys was adopted." 

"Adopted?" 

"Yeah, it was rare but I guess some can't have children so they come to the temple. It was usually the boys that they took though." 

Cyrus nodded in understanding. "And what of the cat?" 

Clover grinned, "he followed me around till he told me he had found a house that fed him and kept him warm in exchange for ridding them of mice." 

Cyrus filled with laughter, "I can already see that you had a wild imagination." 

Clover looked confused till she realised what she had just said, chuckling nervously, "I guess I told myself that when he stopped coming to find me anymore." She was glad he read nothing more into that other than childhood fantasy, she grew tense knowing she needed to be more careful, she couldn’t go around mentioning talking cats. 

"So you were quite fond of animals?" 

"I love them," she smiled, 

"I have three dogs at my palace, two of them are hunting dogs but I think they're a bit too pampered for that," he smirked, "the other is a big softy, follows me everywhere, even sleeps on my bed sometimes." He chuckled, "but my horse is my real pride, I had him since he was a colt, he was a gift for my fifteenth birthday. A black stallion from the far east I was told. It was one of the last things my parents got me." He grew silent as a wistful smile tilted at his lips. 

"I'm sorry," 

"Don't be," 

"Is it bad of me to be envious of you?" 

"Envious?" Cryus questioned, 

"That you had a family, parents. I had always dreamt as a child that mine would walk up to the temple steps and take Aster, Basil and I far away." 

"Let's not think of the past, we have our future together to look forward to" 

It was quiet for a moment till Clover began to smirk, "so no more childhood tales of my distrious stunts and ideas." 

"Well," Cyrus grinned, "I said nothing of that. But I think it is my turn for a story." 

Clover's eyes brightened at the prospect, angling herself ready to hear the story. 

"It started on the dawn of my fathers birthday. I was ten summers old and had not yet learnt the value of trial and error so for the hundredth time I climbed out my window and broke my arm…." 

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