We hit a patch of bumpy road on the way to town. The carriage jittered up and down, but only jostled us slightly. Unlike most of the rides I’d been on in Joan’s world, the Loomcrest carriage, it seemed, had actual suspension.

  I was still staring out the window, but somewhere along the way Ben had mustered up enough courage to speak. It felt like he had a lot bottled up. “You don’t look like a three year old!”

  “I know.” I eased back into the seat, settling myself against another bump. Turning steadily toward him, I gave him my best gentle smile. “I’m strange.”

  That didn’t seem to calm him at all. “You always look so angry, or sad!” he blustered, agitated again.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Should I be happy?”

  “That’s not what I mean!” He clutched at his head, then he seemed to have struck some idea. “Babies make funny noises. Aunt Sisen’s baby giggled at me!”

  That’s a weird tangent. Does he want me to be a baby again?

  “I’ve never been out of the estate before. So I haven’t met any babies.”

  “They visited!” he snapped indignantly, but then the realization must have set in because he shrank from me. “Oh…”

  The galloping of the horses eased into a gentle trot before the carriage lurched to a stop.

  Ben’s eyes perked up as if he had found his purpose. “Come on! There are some neat spots here!”

  He dashed out the door to the knights who were already gathered outside.

  Winthrop stepped in front of me. “Hey, go easy on him. He’s trying. You just have to meet him halfway.”

  I stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles that had built up over my layers. I raised my eyes to challenge his. “Why me?”

  He shifted uncomfortably, his lips sputtering.

  “I’m three, remember. There is no need to remind me whose side you’re on.” I offered him my steady hand, waiting to be escorted out.

  —

  Festive music greeted us as we approached the town square. The townspeople sauntered past us, some with mugs in hand, others holding hands, all of them with ruddy, flushed faces, humming merry melodies. Kids with flowers in their hair skipped past us, laughing giddily. The scent wafted by, of roasted meat, caramelized honey, and warm bread.

  Choruses of cheers crested with the pitch of music.

  “What’s… going on?” Ben asked, his stubby finger pointing at the square where folks were dancing with arms crossed while a fiddler tapped his feet and his fellow musician banged on a drum.

  “They’re celebrating the spring festival, My Lord,” a young knight with tight dark-curls answered.

  “Oh… I knew that!” Ben recovered quickly and then looked to me for confirmation, as if I needed to verify he knew.

  I looked back to the villagers circling each other with such happy, exuberant faces. It was the same in the old world as well. A brief reprieve from the drudgery, and backbreaking work in the fields. A breath of life, music, and spirit.

  Joan was a horrible dancer, as was Steve. But my brothers and sister didn’t mind me flinging myself around the dance floor off-beat to the music. They’d tease me about me having two left feet, but they’d still dance with me.

  Pierre would hold my hand and twirl my bumbling self about even as I bumped into others.

  He’d tried to hold tight to my hand and cling on to me even as the mobs of enemy soldiers swarmed between us.

  “Jehanne!” he’d cry out wretchedly, his hand still grasping for me as I was swept away.

  That damn scene kept replaying in the exact same way, over and over again.

  My teeth ground against each other.

  There was a tug at my sleeve. “Sister?” a soft, fearful voice whispered from beside me. Ben edged closer. “You look very sad again.”

  His round face still held the full cheeks of a toddler. His blue eyes, though dark, did hold some of our mother’s sparkle. He was so very young.

  I’d been an ass.

  “Young lady! Would you like some skewers for you and your little brother? They’re delicious!”

  Ben’s face grew indignant again. When I turned to the source of the voice, I found a wizened old lady at a food stand nearby, holding out a pair of wooden skewers with still sizzling meat on them. Her eyes grew wide when she saw me. “Forgive My Lady! I did not mean to offend!”

  I held up a hand to calm her. “No offense taken. I would like those skewers, but I have no coins…”

  Before the word finished leaving my lips, Winthrop rushed over and dropped a large coin in the old woman’s hand. She gasped again.

  After that, Ben and I savored our juicy meat sticks as we watched the ongoing celebration.

  When we were done, I turned to him. “Do you want to dance?”

  “Huh? No, wait! I don’t know this kind of dance!”

  But it was too late, I dragged him into the throng of dancers with a laugh. “I don’t know either!”

  Everyone cleared a space for the two of us. Ben’s eyes darted about with concern, but I gave in to the music.

  This body however, wouldn’t let loose. Instead of thrashing and kicking to the sounds, my feet, my hips were actually swaying to the rhythm of the beats. I was gliding over the ground to the rise and fall of the lively melody. I twirled around Ben, my fingers lightly holding his hand up in the air.

  There were a few points where he was stuck staring at me, and I had to pull him along, but in the end he had a bright smile on his face, radiant like our mother’s.

  We were breathing hard when the music ended. Our chests rose up and down as a round of applause erupted around us.

  Ben straightened up, looking rather proud of himself. When we came out of the square, he ran ahead again. “Come on! I'll show you the best shops!”

  Winthrop was smiling as well when he stepped up beside me. “You know, I think there’s some kind of rule against enthralling your own brother.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  —

  To my surprise, Ben brought me first to a dress shop. Apparently, he had his eyes on this dress that he said was ‘perfect’ for me. I was a little speechless upon seeing it.

  The dress was one of those ‘princess dresses’ with a tight bodice top that narrowed down to a slim waist and then flared out to a voluminous skirt on the bottom. But the thing that got me was the color. It was a pale blue with a sprinkle of shimmering, silvery dust, very much like the color of the dress I had worn for my first birthday.

  Did he actually remember that dress? Why?

  “Could you try it on, sister?”

  I’m not some dress-up doll, you know?

  But Ben's eyes were large like saucers. His hand tugged at me again, his lower lip trembling as he whispered, “please?”

  I sighed and glanced over to the dressmaker, standing anxiously by the mannequin as she looked between the two of us. “My attendants aren’t here, and I can’t change myself fully without aid.”

  It took her a moment to react. She didn’t seem to believe that I was saying those words. But then she gathered several assistants from the back room, and they helped me undress and put on the princess dress. Their hands all trembled when they changed me, and I feared they might damage the clothes my maids had picked out.

  After I put on the dress, I wasn’t sure what Ben wanted, and so I did a reenactment of the walk I did when I was introduced back then. Even if it was a bitter memory for me, he seemed to treasure it.

  I did my best to gracefully walk over to him and dipped into a low curtsy. Nothing extravagant, just simple and clean execution, but that seemed to elicit sharp inhales of breath, a few gasps, and even a couple of knights snapped to attention.

  A smile was still plastered on Ben’s lips after I returned from changing back.

  I can’t believe it took so long to change outfits!

  Winthrop beamed, his arm pinning a large wrapped package against his body. Apparently, he had paid for the dress as well. I told him I was definitely not keeping it in my closet.

  After that we visited what I was hoping Ben would take me to in the first place: an armory.

  The staff was quite familiar with him, greeting him with warm over the top titles like, “young swordmaster” or “strapping hero”.

  This time, Ben made sure to introduce me as his “little sister”, but I could tell from their faces that quite a few of them were skeptical.

  Ben led me down the aisles, the first showing off sets of fanciful, impractical armors. He pointed out a few particularly fanciful ones and the knights escorting us nodded along with him.

  We walked past the weapons, and he pointed out the rapiers, which I remembered was Father’s preferred weapon. There were a few longswords with beautiful engraving on their blades and then a greatsword laying by itself across an entire rack. The thing may be taller than three of me. My hand reached for the leather wrapped hilt.

  Even though [Divine Sword of the Pure] was a longsword. My sword of choice was actually the greatsword.

  Like the demon sword that I am.

  I was never one for stylish or fancy moves. I couldn’t pull them off even if I wanted to. Monsieur Liancour, my ma?tre d'armes had always joked that my style was brutishly beautiful—it was simple and effective and that was it.

  “That’s a bit too big for you, lass.” A gruff voice thundered from above.

  A giant of a man towered over me. He was at least six feet tall and quite wide, with a shiny bald head and bushy beard. His face, however, wasn’t all that intimidating. It had a wide affable smile, and his black beady eyes twinkled at me.

  I shrugged. “It looked like a well made sword. I was curious as to its balance.”

  The man scratched at his beard and then effortlessly picked up the sword with one hand, showing off his large biceps. He twisted the sword around, eyeing down the length of it and gave it a few quick snaps away from me. Then he lowered the sword and tapped at a spot close to the hilt with a thick finger. “Here’s the point.”

  “Hmm… for up close then. You wouldn’t break the line with this.”

  The man arched a bushy eyebrow at me, he threw his head back and bellowed a loud laugh that rang through the shop. “Break the line, lass? This is a shop for adventures. We ain’t fighting in formations here.”

  “Hey! What are you doing? Don’t you dare threaten My Lady with that blade!” a knight cried out in alarm when they turned to us. It took them long enough to notice they left me behind when Ben skipped ahead looking at more rapiers.

  “Sister!” Ben shouted as he ran toward me, but one of the other knights blocked him with one arm.

  “Lady?” The man looked over my face again and grimaced. “Shit! I should’ve known.” He quickly placed the sword down on the rack and threw up both his hands. “Fellas, I’m sorry! I was just showing the little lady.”

  “Address her properly!” the knight corrected him sharply. “This is Lady Josephine de Bloomcrest, daughter of The Duke, the lord of these lands! You will not disrespect or threaten her.”

  I stepped between them and leveled my gaze at the furious knight. “Thank you for your concern sir knight. But I did ask this…” I shot an expectantly look over at him.

  “Gorian…” he hissed over at me.

  “Mister Gorian to help assess a sword. There is no issue here.” I dipped my chin slightly. That should resolve this silly matter.

  “Of course My Lady.” The knight placed a hand to his chest and backed up.

  Gorian released a long held breath. His eyebrows furrowed. “Phew, how old are you exactly, lass?” I narrowed my eyes, and he recovered with, “My Lady.”

  Before I could answer, a loud female voice crashed into the fray. “Gorian! Are you making trouble again!”

  I was shocked by the figure walking toward us. It was a tall woman in green with straight copper hair. Her face was long and thin, but the most striking thing about her features was her sharp pointed ears.

  She’s an elf?

  My old world had magical creatures, but not other humanoid races. This was the first time I’d seen an elf before.

  She shuddered, unnerved by my gawking gaze as she stepped toward us with two other figures. “Umm… who is this?”

  The knights were about to take offense again when another figure appeared.

  Winthrop stepped in. “Everyone, please calm down.”

  Gorian scratched his head in confusion. “Winthrop?”

  —

  Winthrop took us all to a nearby tavern, where he got the knights their own table and a round of drinks.

  He plopped down on a seat beside Ben in the large booth where the rest of us were all seated. Raising a large mug full of sloshing ale, he grinned as he surveyed at the table. “It’s been a while again, gang. Everyone, I’d like to introduce you all to my half nephew, and niece. Lord Benjamin de Bloomcrest, and Lady Josephine de Bloomcrest.”

  The group opposite us did their best to nod politely back. One could tell they weren’t used to dealing with nobility.

  “Ben, Josephine. This is the adventure group I used to be part of, The Valiant Fist.”

  He first pointed his chin to the bald man I was talking to before. “Here’s their fearless leader, Gorian the Wall. He takes care of things up front, packs a punch as well.”

  Gorian grunted at the intro and took a swig of his mug.

  Then he nodded to the copper-haired elf. “This is Serina, she’s the eyes for the group. Deadly with a bow as well.”

  Serina acknowledged Winthrop with a smile. She smiled warmly at Ben as well, but for me, her almond-shaped green eyes narrowed intently before turning back to Winthrop.

  Winthrop smiled at the older looking man beside Serina. He had a clean cut face, with short black hair. “This here is Brother Kamuel. He’s a cleric of Mundline, the goddess of the woods. Good healer, buffer, and can really hold his drink.”

  “Hear hear!” Kamuel called out as he bumped his mug against Winthrop’s, splashing ale over the table.

  The beer’s sour smell permeated the air. Back in the other world, my men used to do this all the time. I never minded the smell much, but Ben was wrinkling his nose.

  Winthrop turned his attention to the final person, a man with bright red hair and pale blue eyes. His had a grey hue to it, almost like ash. “Be careful of this guy. He’s the elementalist, Justin the firestarter. He’s there mostly to start campfires.”

  “Yeah, real funny.” Justin snorted. “What are you doing out here anyway, babysitting kids? Should come back with us.”

  Winthrop laughed it off, running his fingers through his dark gray hair. “Can’t. Family first, you know?”

  Gorian set his twinkling eyes on us. “Bah, what about you kids then?” He then pointed his mug at me. “You, uhm, Lady, seem like you know your way around a sword. And real sharp with your words.”

  Ben’s arm shot out in front of me. “No way! Josephine’s never touched a sword, and she’s too delicate to be in a fight.”

  He seems to be an expert on me all of a sudden.

  A laugh burst out of Gorian. “Hah, Winthrop! Your brother’s got some good kids here.” Covering his lips with one hand, he whispered not so softly, “Really want to protect your big sis, huh? I would too if she looked like that.”

  I smacked my forehead.

  Ben exploded. “She’s my LITTLE sister!”