Snow looked around, her eyes pausing on the happy people who seemed to be perfectly at ease. They talked and laughed with one another with such raw emotion. She had never seen anything like that in the reserved, quiet elven village. Certainly, they exhibited emotion, too, but nothing as merry as these folks.
“Snow, you’re staring,” he said.
She snapped her gaze to the table in front of her, examining the scarred wooden top as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I didn’t mean to.”
“They are a cheery lot.” He chuckled. “Good humored mostly. This is the largest of the three villages we’ll be visiting.”
“The others are smaller?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“Yes. Westfall is further away from the castle and Seraphina’s reach, so she isn’t as interested in it. The others she likes to torment since they’re closer.”
“What does that mean?”
A tavern maid bustled up to the table with a bright smile and a twinkle in her deep brown eyes.
“Good morrow, my friends. What can I get ye?” she asked.
“Oat cakes, porridge, and waffles, if you please,” Roderick said. “For the both of us. And a strong pot of tea with cream and sugar.”
She dipped a curtsy and gave a nod before she hurried away.
“What are waffles?” Snow asked. The word felt foreign on her tongue.
“Ah, you’re in for a treat.” He gave a broad smile. “To answer your question, though, from what I gathered in the other villages, Seraphina has raised taxes on them several times to the point of putting them into poverty. She takes the food they grow and harvest for herself, barely leaving any for the villagers themselves. They’re poor and starving.”
Horror struck through her. “That’s terrible.”
“Here, though, Westfall thrives. I understand there is a significant underground movement to help the other villages when they can. But if they get caught…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
“What?” she asked, leaning forward.
“Well, you can imagine Seraphina’s reaction to that.”
She sat back in her chair, chewing on her bottom lip. “She would punish them, I’m sure.”
He nodded.
The tavern maid returned with a tray holding a teapot, two cups, creamer and sugar bowl. She plopped it down on the table without a word and then scurried away to handle the next customer who arrived at the table next to Snow and Roderick.
He poured the tea, first her cup then his. He pushed the cup toward her.
“Cream or sugar?” he asked.
She shook her head.
Hearing about the other villages sent a pang of worry through her. If the people were taxed to that extreme, how did they manage to live?
Roderick poured a dollop of cream in his tea followed by a small teaspoon of sugar, then stirred.
“How will they know I am…” she paused and leaned forward, dropping her voice. “You know.”
“The princess?” he asked.
She sucked in a sharp breath and sat straight, glancing around to see if anyone heard. No one had. They all continued about their business as if she were a normal patron on a normal morning in Westfall.
“They will in time.” He gave a smile as he lifted the cup and sipped.
“You have a plan, don’t you?”
