The Diplomat by French Sophia

Author:French, Sophia [French, Sophia]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781594934377
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2015-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The paved streets of Arann were nothing like the cobbled roads of the Danoshan capital. Narrow and winding, they followed hills that descended so steeply horses trembled to follow them. Where the stone houses parted, their elevation allowed a dizzying view of the valley and the city tangled in its depths.

The group pushed through countless marketplaces—some that crowded the streets, others that occupied plazas—and passed between stalls that seemed to grow on buildings like clinging vines. As they navigated these bazaars, merchants assailed them, tugging on sleeves and proffering vivid fruits, while an immense noise swirled: pots clattering, fat sizzling in griddles, dogs baying and monkeys chirping, and the cries and countercries of vendors each selling identical wares and yet all expecting the undivided loyalty of passersby.

Elise stared at the faces around her, astonishment driving the pout from her face. All the people of the Empire and many of those from the wider world were represented in Arann, and their many-languaged conversations formed a dense and unintelligible hum. There were jet-skinned Lastar, tall Tahdeeni with olive skin and wide eyes, tanned Ulati wrapped in rough cloth, bare-chested Molonese with bundles of silk in their arms, and sallow Goronba leading broad-backed donkeys. There were foreigners, too: pale-skinned Lyornans and Kalanese in opulent garments, unhappy red-haired Harothen sweating behind their armor, Narandane towering above the crowds, Erellan women in conical hats and even a Danoshan merchant pulling a cart laden with apples.

Elise seemed particularly taken with the golden-skinned, sharp-featured Ajulese. She stopped to watch a company pass by, a lively mingling of men and women. “They look like you. But you’re a touch fairer, and all of them have black hair.”

“My father was Ajulese,” said Rema. “My mother was a Nastine, hence my red hair and slightly lighter skin.”

The group descended a curved street that ran between two tall rows of houses. Clotheslines spanned the buildings, casting thin shadows across the street. Excited children ran about their group chasing a cat, and a woman emerged onto a step and beat dust from a tapestry. “I met a princess from Nastil once,” said Elise. “She didn’t have red hair.”

“Nastine don’t all have red hair. It’s not like every Danoshan has silver eyes.”

“I know that. If you insist on treating me like a child, I’ll act like one and bite your foot.”

Artunos frowned. “You shouldn’t speak to Rema in that way.”

Rema laughed. “Artunos, it’s nothing. You’ll have to excuse Elise if she says inappropriate things. She merely announces what she’s thinking.”

“She’d better break that habit before she meets the Emperor.” Artunos spoke without a trace of humor. Elise sneered at him before turning to stare at a zebra that stood patiently in a stockyard among horses and camels.

Their path took them through a large public garden filled with aromatic trees. A river coursed through its center, and the road passed over it by way of a small cobbled bridge. Elise stopped to gape at the huge, many-colored birds that stretched their plumage from crooked branches and sang in tremulous warbles.

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