Chapter Text
Farrin and Rakel had been nearly ordered from the palace for some relaxation after the events of the last several harrowing weeks. King Steinar had said, “What with assasination attempts, kidnaping attempts, and the odd banishment, things have been difficult for the two of you. You both deserve a rest.”
Hence, they found themselves settling in to the royal hunting cabin for a few days. Farrin thought it to be rustic but comfortable. Although, he thought, amused, most rustic cabins don’t have their own servants’ quarters and stable.
Farrin smirked as he remembered Oskar’s utter horror at the idea that Farrin and Rakel would take no servants to the cabin with them. “Who will cook and clean and chop firewood?” he had asked. Farrin had grinned. “I promise I won’t let her starve or freeze, Oskar.” Farrin had walked away as Oskar sputtered.
Aloud, Farrin chuckled.
Rakel cocked her head. “What is it, Love?”
“Just remembering Oskar’s reaction when I told him we would do our own chores while we were here.”
“Why does it matter? Does he think royals can’t wash dishes?”
Farrin shook his head. “Royals don’t wash dishes. That is what they have servants for.”
“Well, yes. At the palace, but it’s ridiculous. What happens when they’re in a cabin in the woods and dishes need washed?”
Farrin chuckled again and kissed her forehead. “She lets her commoner husband do all the work.”
“Farrin! You said that–.”
“Rakel,” he cut her off, putting his arms around her waist and looking into her eyes, his full of mischief, “I was teasing, Sweet Girl.”
“You said that you would teach me.”
“I will. But not right now. How are you feeling? Would you be up for a stroll? It’s a beautiful day. And we have some time before lunch.”
She shot him a wicked look. “I’m pregnant, not decrepit.”
He chuckled. “Very well. I’ll inform the guards.” He ducked out to the barracks. It was a bit of an awkward arrangement since, although Farrin was technically not on duty, the guards knew that in reality, he was. The day shift dutifully positioned themselves to follow the royals at a distance.
***
Rakel came out the door and met Farrin, and they set out in no particular direction, enjoying the crisp autumn air and the sunshine. Once she was snuggled against him and their steps were synced, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. It struck her that whenever he was outside, he positively basked. She asked, “Why do you love the outdoors so much? Is it because of growing up on the farm?”
He breathed deeply of the pine-scented air. “Partially it’s because of my childhood. But, the gladiator cells in Sarthe get no natural light at all. They’re like caves. The gladiators train and fight in the arena which has no roof, so there is sunlight. Otherwise, we were in the dark all the time. Often the slave masters would tell us that we would never see the light of day, meaning we would never be free.” He shrugged. “To me, sunshine is synonymous with freedom.”
“No wonder you crave it.”
“I guess I never really thought about it, but I definitely spend as much time outdoors in the sun as I can. You realized it before I did. How did you know?”
“Your tan is a pretty good first indicator,” she laughed.
He tightened his embrace and chuckled. “I guess so. Okay, your turn.”
She looked up at him, puzzled.
“Tell me something from your past. It can be anything.”
She thought for a moment. She did not want to tell him something painful, but there was little else to tell. Finally, an idea struck her. “When I was about five or six years old, a woman came to the tower. She said, ‘Princess Rakel, I am your tutor.’ She didn’t call me evil or an abomination or a monster. She used my name–and my title. And she didn’t act afraid. I wasn’t sure what to do with an adult who did not seem to fear me.
“Every few days for thirty minutes or so she came, bringing a book and a slate. I grew to love her visits and each day I hoped it would be a “visit day.” On visit days, I tried to dream up ways to get her to stay a little longer. Sometimes it worked.” Rakel’s voice turned sad. “When I was reading and writing well enough, she disappeared and never returned. She never even said goodbye.”
Farrin rubbed his gloved hand up and down her arm. “You must have been devastated.”
“I kept telling myself that she would be back. I finally gave up after a few weeks. I cried a lot for days after that.” She sighed. “But, eventually, it just became the norm and I compartmentalized it with everything and everyone else. Everyone else feared me, I assumed that she had finally figured out that she should fear me too.”
“Who was she?”
“I never found out. I just called her ‘Teacher.’ I didn’t think much of it at the time. But I have since learned that my parents never sent me a tutor.”
“I would have thought that they would have wanted you to have some kind of education.”
“Even if they had wanted me to have an education, it probably wasn’t easy to find someone who was willing to be in the same room with me long enough to teach me anything.”
“Apparently someone was willing.”
“I have much for which to thank that lady because–well, you know how much I love to read. I can’t imagine how I would have filled all those lonely hours if I hadn’t had my books.” She pulled away from him and faced him, lifting her arms above her head in vague tower shapes. “I used the illustrations and explanations of the architecture to sculpt and build my ice castle, which filled more hours. And my knowledge of architecture helped immensely during the war.”
“Maybe Oskar or Steinar could help you find her,” Farrin suggested, gathering her hand in his and pulling her against his side once more.
“I hadn’t thought about her in years, but I would like to know her better, if she’s still around, and willing, of course.”
“I can’t imagine she would be unwilling. After all, she spent hours with you. She can’t be a mage hater or afraid of magic.”
“How did you learn to read, Farrin? I know that often commoners do not have that opportunity.”
“My grandmother. In her younger days, she had been a companion to a nobleman’s daughter. She sat in on the tutoring sessions from what I understand. She was a firm believer that everyone should have an opportunity to learn to read. She taught all of us–whether we wanted to learn or not!”
“Were you an unwilling pupil?”
“Definitely. It was a whole lot more fun to play outside and swim in the river and race my brothers than to sit still and learn,” he said in a tone of mock disgust.
Rakel chuckled. “Especially after your magic manifested.”
“Especially then.”
“Books are expensive. What did she use to teach you?”
“She had been given a book by the nobleman’s daughter when she left her employ. It was a book of Farset fairytales. I learned to read from that book.”
“How appropriate.”
Farrin raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.
“Fairytale knights are valiant and chivalrous. So are you.”
“You give me more credit than I deserve, My Love.” He kissed the top of her head then turned their steps back toward the cabin.