20. Stella

It's surprisingly easy to sneak out of the giant palace. I keep to the shadows, moving quickly and quietly. All these big aliens barely pay any attention to a small figure hurrying along.

I hurry down the hall and exit through a side door meant for the staff. Just like that, I'm outside. I take a big breath as nerves race through my veins. I did it!

A horse-drawn cart passes me by, headed for the city in the valley down below. I hop on the back of it and hitch a ride down the long, winding road headed towards the bustling streets.

I barely know where to look. There are stalls selling roasted nuts that smell delicious, Erullians outside a bar drinking fizzy beers, children playing in the park.

I want to explore every last inch of this place! En'Zal has been holding out on me. Where to start?

A bakery catches my eye. The pastries on display are absolutely breathtaking. They look almost too perfect to eat. Almost.

"I'm sorry, we're just about to close," a friendly voice says.

I look up to see a green-scaled Erullian woman standing in the doorway, holding a broom. "But you look positively entranced, dear, so I'll make an exception for you. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'm sorry," I stammer as I pull my hood down low. "I don't have any money, actually. I was just looking."

She hesitates for a moment as her implant translates my words.

"Ah, an outsider, huh? I don't recognize your accent. Are you hungry, dear? You look a little thin."

My stomach growls.

"That's a good answer," she laughs. "Come in. I can't sell these tomorrow, anyway."

"Oh no, I don't mean to impose!"

"Nonsense! Come in girl, come in, please. I insist."

I follow the baker into her shop as I keep apologizing, but she's having none of it. She grabs one of the fluffy glazed donuts topped with colorful sprinkles from the display and hands it to me.

"Here you are, dear."

"Thank you so much. You are too kind, miss."

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do in these trying times, eh?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"The war, dear! That's why you're here, isn't it? We've had more refugees coming into the capital as the attacks on our borders intensify. Tough times ahead, dear, tough times indeed. We've got to stick together."

"Right. The war," I nod as I take a bite of the donut. "Yes."

"I trust our good kind En'Zal, though," the baker continues. "He'll sort it out."

"You do?"

"Oh yes! He's wonderful. And so handsome, too! Would you believe he's been inside this very shop?!"

"He has?" I ask, my mouth full.

Oh my goodness, this donut is divine. The creamy filling is delicious, with just a kiss of vanilla. Amazing.

"Yes!" The baker beams with pride. "He walks through these streets often, you know! He's not like those other snooty royals, who only hide in their castles. En'Zal is a man of the people. Did you know he's not afraid to get his hands dirty? He came in here to buy a donut; the one you're having, in fact! It's my speciality."

"I can see that," I say as I unapologetically lick my fingers to get every last hint of frosting in my mouth. "These are so good!"

"Thank you, dear! When King En'Zal was here, trying to pay, which I refused of course, a cart broke down right in front of my shop. Wheel snapped clean in half! The sound of that heavy thing hitting the cobbles made my heart jump right in my throat!"

The woman is very animated as she tells this story. It's clear she's told it a dozen times before at dinner parties, and I smile as I listen to her infectious enthusiasm.

"And then, get this, the king himself got on his knees, getting his fancy clothes and his hands all dirty as he helped the driver fix his broken wheel! Can you believe that? An actual king, helping out a local with his own two hands?! Zho'Ron would never!"

I nod along. "So King En'Zal is well respected in these parts, yeah?"

The baker nods enthusiastically. "Oh, very much so, very much so! He's the best leader Zalleria has ever had, and that's saying something, because his grandfather was no slouch either! En'Zal is stern but fair, and he keeps us safe. There's trouble brewing all over the continent, but I trust our king completely."

At that moment, a soft bell chimes.

Two tall hooded figures enter the bakery.

"I'm sorry, we're closed for the day," the baker says. "Please come back tomorrow."

One of the men chuckles, and his voice sends shivers down my spine. "Oh, we're not going anywhere, miss. We're right where we want to be."