Why didn’t he teleport us to the coachman? Rikilda dragged her heels, leaving a cloud of dust in air with each step. She puffed her cheek a bit with air in anger towards her father’s indolence.

Braden looked at her walking by kicking isles of dust. A smirk spread across his face.

“Don’t laugh.” She said, “I may not be trained but my senses are sharp.”

“You knew where I was looking?” Braden asked.

“Umm…” she mumbled, “Ah- h – who can’t notice being mocked?”

“I wasn’t mocking you. I was laughing at how you walk.”

She gave him a stare.

“People also laugh at me.” Braden said, “And I also sometimes laugh at them. It’s very common in outer world.”

“Is it?” her voice turned thin.

Braden answered her with a nod.

“What did you do in outer world?” she stopped stomping hard on dust.

“I told you, I used to get laughed at.”

She couldn’t create an answer from metaphors. Rikilda wasn’t interested in tangling her brain cells either.

“I worked at plays.” Braden opted not to mention thief part.

“Tell me something funny.”

Braden thought of every joke he had heard in his entire life. He was finding difficult to pick the one which he thought would break her into laughter.

“We will be in Maester Rudolph’s house by the time you think of a joke.” Rikilda said.

“I am nervous. Let me think.”

“Nervous, hah?” she chuckled.

“Oh! I remember a joke. A man was in coffin-”

“How can someone think for so long and choose the shittiest joke ever?”

“But this joke is unique in Pryeg.”

“It’s common in our inner world.” She said, “Even Trov won’t laugh at it.”

“He understands jokes?”

“Yes.” Something drained delight from her, “I’ll miss him when I’m married. I will miss mother, father and y-” she paused, “You. Haven’t you married yet?”

“No.” Braden said, “This is drawback of being a low blood.”

“My father will find you a beautiful wife.” Rikilda consolidated him, “Anyone will think you are a noble blood if you wear good clothes like this.” She touched his shirt.

“I don’t think I will marry a high blood. I don’t want to lie for getting married.”

Rikilda’s smile vanished.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Braden said.

“Was my father scared when he saw Wernh’An?” asked Rikilda.

“Don’t know about him but I was scared to my bones. The crown on his head, wide shoulders like eagle spreading its wings and the cape waving in cold air.”

“Then I’m sure my father was scared too.”

“Rumors are true that whether you’re intimidated by him or not, you will tremble. Snow around him in his arrival will make anyone shiver.” Braden recalled the incident.

“He comes from snow?”

“No. He comes from a portal which looks likes snow. Err…maybe it is made of snow.”

Braden didn’t take a step further and stopped Rikilda from walking as well. For a moment Rikilda was confused on what had come across Braden’s mind. She took a couple of steps behind when a blue circle as tall as them appeared in their path. Rikilda held Braden’s arm in fear while a man stepped out of the portal and gazed at them.

Nortze waited for Rikilda to leave his hand and said, “Get in here, both of you.”

“This is not what it looks like, father.” She realized he had seen her hold Braden’s hand for long enough.

“Prince Tudor has come to see you.” Nortze said.