Micah's feet were heavy and aching and the rucksack on his back was straining his shoulders. The sun was setting and he should have eaten by now. He imagined that most of the capital's people were sitting down for dinner right about now but that thought only made him hungry. He could see the river now and that was a sure sign that he was getting close.

He trudged up a short rise and swept his sweaty hair out of his eyes. The capital stared back at him. When Creatia had lived, this city had been called Florian but that name had been outlawed by the Barderns even though Conrad Allist and his army of soldiers were the only Barderns to live there. They had renamed it Bardaious but Micah refused to called his birth city that. Florian used to be pretty joyous as cities went. The peasant markets flourished every weekday and on the weekend, the nightlife had been one of Micah's favourite things.

As the younger son of the King, Micah had never expected the crown and had therefore been deemed less important. He hadn't found that insulting at all, in fact, the title gave him a lot more freedom. Because no one in this city knew what their royals looked like. Some might have seen the King once or twice when he addressed his court but only from a distance. No one outside the castle knew what face Micah Baudille wore and though that had aided him getting out of the castle, he hoped it now might help him back in. Conrad Allist had never seen his face and Micah would be sure to use this against him as he drove a knife through his back.

How he was going to do that was another matter altogether.

Micah had stopped and his rucksack had dropped off his shoulder as he had stood to examine his former home. The city was all rings and curved edges. The castle stood at the back of it, a moat outside a tall wall to detach it from the city it overlooked. The dwellings closest to there were visible for their identical rooves, those of the noblemen. Another small wall separated them from the rest of the city, but that was more for decoration that safety. The villagers lived within the outer ring in homes that were a lot less lavish than the nobility, but still sufficient for living in.

Long ago, when Florian was born, the engineers at the time had built sky bridges that connected the three rings of wall, joining them above the heads of every resident and Micah could see people travelling on them, even at this distance. The castle had been rebuilt after the damage the bomb had caused on the far side where his parents' bedroom had been and the patching up of the brickwork was ugly as the Barderns hadn't found the right colour of grey brick.

The low drum of anger ignited in Micah's stomach. How dare they touch his castle; patch up the hole they had blown in it with a job that reflected the type of people they were. And the flag poles at the front entrance to the inner ring didn't catch the sun as they used to with the silver-lined purple, but instead flags of bright Barden blue were flying.

"'S nice, ain't it?"

Micah turned to see another traveller pull up beside him. She was short, covered in all kinds of brown cloths, and pulling a small wagon.

"It was once. Look what they've done to it," Micah couldn't stop those words and once he realised he had said them, his fingers twitched around the hilt of his dagger.

But the girl only chuckled, "You're lucky I'm not from 'round 'ere. If I was one of them Barderns, I might've just kicked your arse for that."

She was young, younger than him anyway, with a warm smile and big round eyes. Her skin was a couple shades lighter than his but still maintained the colour of caramel.

"No, see I am just waiting for a Bardern to pick a fight with me," Micah said, eyes glued to the city and the anger still alight in his belly.

"Confident, you are," the girl noted, stopping to study his face, "Or maybe just darn stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Micah insisted, "I'm just...not particularly loyal to the northerners."

"Well, you might wanna get loyal. Them Smokes are brutal on folks who'll speak out."

Smokes was what a lot of the peasants had nicknamed the people from Terra Barder. Micah had always thought it had fit, since the one time his mother had travelled there, she had come back smelling so badly of the herbs they smoked that she had had to burn her clothes. The herbs could only grow on the hard-packed Bardern soil and over the centuries, the Barderns had grown a tolerance to the poison in the leaves. There were cases all the time of the herb getting smuggled into one of the other countries, usually by kids who thought it would be fun to try it, but that practice only bought about casualties. The herb still ensured that the Barderns didn't live as long as their neighbouring peoples but for a Creatian man to try some meant severe hallucinations and eventually death.

"Do you know if they smoke much in the capital?" Micah asked the girl.

She shrugged, "Smokes smoke. 'S what happens. I'm Ella, by the way, Ella Dias."

Micah glanced at her extended hand and hesitated a moment before shaking it, "I'm Michael. You're Kannish, aren't you?"

Ella rolled her eyes, "Yeah, 's easy to pick up on, ain't it. Mosta my lot all speak like this."

The two started to walk down the rise together, the wheels on Ella's wagon squeaking in time to their steps.

"So why leave El Kana? Why come to a Bardern-infested Creatia?"

"You know, Michael, if I'ma walk with you, you're gonna needa stop saying stuff that'll get me killed," Ella laughed, "But yeah, I see your point. I gotta travel though. No point going back to El Kana with a little one. 'S not safe in the streets no more."

"A little one?"

Ella gave a grim smile and lowered the handle to her cart so that she could walk around the back of it and take the cover off. Micah glanced over her shoulder to see a tiny baby, fast asleep between small sacks of wheat.

"Only just stopped his ruddy cryin'. 'E's not mine though," she mumbled softly, "Technically he's me nephew. But my sister's gotta work see? She's got other mouths to feed. So I hadda take him with me."

Micah had been to El Kana only twice in his life, once in infancy, and the second when he was older, but with what Ella was describing, it was as though he had never been there at all.

"What happened in El Kana? After Creatia fell?" he asked her as she pulled the cover back down over her wagon.

Ella's face turned cold, "Our bloody Prince fell to his knees and puckered up to kiss the Smokes' arses. Country turned to shit after that."

"All of the five are controlled by Terra Barder now. But I thought they had replaced all the leaders with Bardern Regents."

"Yeah, everyone but us Kannish, except maybe your Delajencans. Rumour is that them Dalladunes are running it, they say the Smoke Regent is too drunk half the time to do anything. Whereas our Prince is willing to do whatever anyways. He sold all our produce off at a fraction of our prices. 'S why the streets aren't safe anymore. Too many hungry and poor," Ella resumed tugging on her cart and they started to trudge along again, Florian getting closer with every step, "But I s'pose you know exactly what that's like. You're Creatian aren't ya? Can smell it on ya. People say that they never found the body of your Heir, say he's still alive out there somewhere, hiding like a coward."

"He was only young," Micah said, eyes focused on the road at his feet.

Ella scoffed, "Ain't give him no reason to abandon his people like that though. 'E won that contest for a reason. Strongest warrior in the Kingdom my arse. He 'ad a duty."

Micah had gone cold, "Yeah..."

"But anyway," Ella continued, nonchalantly, "if you're Creatian, but ain't been living in Creatia, where you been?"

"Delajenca," Micah said, the lie coming so easily that it could well have been truth, "My brother took me up there once the royals were killed. He said it would be safer out of the country for a little while."

"'E's a smart man," Ella nodded, "Where's he now?"

"He's sick and couldn't travel. And I have business down here so he's back up north."

"You've been on the road a while now then?"

"Seems like forever."

Micah walked with Ella until Florian towered over him, the inner two rings of wall hidden behind the outermost one. A cluster of Bardern soldiers stood outside the gate, manning it from intruders. Their sky blue uniforms were ratty and clouded by the smoke that emitted from all of their mouths.

"Best do this part by meself," Ella whispered and strode forward, pulling her cart up to the nearest soldier.

"State your name and business." The soldier said, coughing smoke.

"Elleanora Dias. I'm a merchant from El Kana," Micah heard Ella say, "I'm carrying wheat to sell at the markets."

The soldier rounded her cart and lifted the cover. Micah's heart lurched when he realised the baby was no longer in sight. Then he remembered how Ella had stopped to readjust some things just before they had come into sight of the Bardern soldiers. She must have moved the baby. That's when he noticed how her robes seemed fuller than they had been. Anyone else might have thought she was just plumper, but Micah recognised the difference. The baby was strapped to her chest, hidden in the folds of her robes.

"You!" Micah's attention turned to another soldier that was approaching him, "What's your name and business?"

"I'm just visiting family here," Micah lied, simply, "I'm a former resident."

The soldier looked down his long crooked nose at Micah, "Are you just."

Micah watched as Ella was allowed passage by her soldier and she pulled her wagon towards the archway, beyond which the markets were bustling. His eyes flicked back to the soldier in front of him and he opened his mouth to answer, just as a loud squawk pierced his hearing. Ella froze as all the soldiers whipped around to face her.

"What was that?" one of them cried.

Ella's mouth opened as if to explain but the baby beneath her robes squealed again.

"She's hiding a child!" another yelled and Ella made a move to dash forward but fell into the waiting arms of a sky blue uniform. Hands ripped her robes aside, revealing the baby strapped in a small carrier to the outside of her undergarments.

"No!" Ella screamed, "Please!"

"Stop!" Micah cried, "Take your hands off her, she's with me! She's with me!"

The soldiers stopped, two of them still restraining Ella as a third held the baby.

"You can let her go, she's with me!" Micah strode up and grabbed the baby from the soldier that held him, cradling the little thing in his arms.

"And who are you?" The closest soldier demanded as Ella shook herself free of his grip and stumbled over to stand beside Micah.

"I am Felix Masterson, son of Josiah," Micah spat out at him.

"A Masterson?" The soldier scoffed, looking him up and down, "If you're a son of Josiah Masterson then I'm Adolphus Baudille!"

Micah didn't react at the mention of his father, and instead stood his ground, "Ask me anything about my family then. I am a nobleman's son and I am not afraid to have to prove it!"

"Where do you live then?" The soldier asked.

"Lakeside Avenue," Micah didn't wait for a heartbeat, "The house with the white roof. My mother grows peonies out the front."

"And your father?"

"Dead. He perished when the pitiful Creatians fell. He was killed for being loyal to King Adolphus."

"And do you hold any bad blood against the Great Lord Allist?" The soldier's nostrils flared.

Micah shook his head, "Not at all. My father deserved to die. He didn't realise how weak Creatia was and how strong it could be."

The soldier seemed surprised, "You've passed your test, Felix Masterson. But who is this girl? Is she not aware that women may not bring children into Bardaious if they are not known to the State, by direct order of the Great Lord Allist?"

Micah had heard of the ridiculous laws that Allist had created. Officially they claimed to protect the people inside Florian, but really it just stopped most people getting in and out of the city.

"She's my fiancé," with this, Micah put his arm around Ella, "And this is my child. And if you'd like to dispute it then you can explain to my mother why her grandson isn't allowed into the city that she is so adamant in serving."

"You're wearing peasant clothes," One of the soldiers noted bitterly.

"You can't very well trek across the Kannish plains in formal silks," Ella's voice had changed, her accent disappearing entirely, "We would have been mugged several times over. We had to pretend to be of a lower class. I even went to the effort to adopt the dialect! And here you are treating us as if we are mere peasants? By the High King, haven't we had enough of being treated like that, Felix?"

Micah nodded at her words, "I'll thank you to let us pass freely."

The soldier closest, the one who appeared to be in charge, seemed to think this over in his brain for a moment. In that moment, neither Micah nor Ella were able to breathe.

Then the soldier bowed his head, "Accept our apologies, Sir Masterson...Miss Dias. You have been granted entry."

Micah felt Ella's exhale from how her tiny frame was pressed up against his side. She tilted her nose up as though she were miles taller than the soldiers and took her nephew from Micah's arms. The baby giggled and burped as Micah gave him up and grabbed the handle of Ella's wagon.

Together, they strode through the gates to the city, passing the Bardern soldiers with their noses turned up.

"They'll 'ave someone watchin' us," Ella hissed through her teeth, her accent having returned, "Don't say nothing yet."

But words couldn't have formed on Micah's tongue, even if he had have wanted them to. He was too much in awe of how his city had changed.

Conrad Allist had ruined it.