Corill sat sideways on the seat, her feet on the bench.  She could feel Crowe’s disapproving presence and she pulled the book she was writing in a little closer to her chest.   It would be just like him to try and see what she was writing under the pretext of protecting her.

The scenery below the airship was breathtaking, but Corill ignored it.  She didn’t want to be here anyway.   She frowned in the general direction of Crowe and dropped her feet off the bench.  As she felt him recede she put the book down on her lap and continued to write.

.... don’t understand *why* father insisted I make the trip to the southern continent for my birthday.  I’d much rather be spending it with my friends.   And I am going to be so far behind on my lessons, that no doubt Lord Miltoc will despair.   I suggested that he come.. but No!  Father is still too afraid of him.  So, I miss out.

“Although I supposed that’s just like father.  When one is the emperor, one doesn’t have to take anyone else’s feelings into account.  They just do what they want.  Lord Miltoc says that those who rule often lose touch with the common man and those around them.”

She paused, the end of her pen to her mouth contemplating her next words.   A fat drop of ink fell from her pen to land on the thigh of her brown breeches.   She closed the journal and set it to one side.  Leaning over, she grabbed a bit of blotting paper and dabbed where the ink had fallen, succeeding mostly in making the stain bigger.

There was a discreet knock at the cabin door.  “Come in,” she called, attention still on her breeches.    She looked up to see the most handsome young man carrying a tray with her meal.   She watched as he bent over the small table, laying the dinner out.   She had a moment to wish she was attired in a gown, but quickly pushed it away.  She would dress as she desired.   Miltoc was right, she was old enough not to have to follow everyone’s wishes.   The young man glanced over to her as he finished, and she remembered her manners enough to thank him before he withdrew.
 

<Arrival>

Corill stepped off the airship, the sun seeming brighter here than at home.  The heat seemed to strike her, making it difficult to breathe easily.   The crowd seemed to part and there was her father standing before her.   She did not rush to him as she might have when she was a child.  She was too old for that now, or so she told herself.

But fathers are never too old to show their daughters how much they love them and Corum stepped forward, enfolding her in his strong arms, the black dragons on them seeming to dance as he hugged his daughter tightly.  Corill stiffened as he did so and then squirmed, trying to pull back, her cheeks red with embarrassment.  “Father!” she hissed at him.  “Everyone’s looking!”

“Let them look,” Corum laughed and held on to her a little longer as she struggled ineffectually, then let her go.  He smiled down at her, unperturbed by her outburst.  She was much taller than when he had last seen her, and he noted her facial features becoming more refined.    Her attire would not have seemed out of place on one of the stablehands, consisting as it did of stained breeches and a loose white linen shirt.   He sighed mentally at her defiant look.  She was just entering her teens and if his other daughters at this age were any indication, this would not be an easy visit.