The riders exchanged questioning looks with each other. “It’s true.... You don’t look like the usual rabble,” admitted the spokeswoman. It was a sign of our worn state that we didn’t look like royalty either. We certainly looked more like servants than masters. “What kingdom do you come from?”

“The Lilac Land,” said Dorian quickly. This was met with blank looks, largely because said kingdom didn’t exist, to my knowledge. “It’s very far away. We’ve been traveling a long time and simply want to free our land from the curse.”

The riders had a quiet conference with each other and finally came to a decision. “We’ll escort you to our borders,” said the gray-haired woman. “Just to be certain. Once you cross into the next loyal kingdom, however ... be warned. You may not find such a warm reception. The Mimosa Land and its residents are not nearly so accommodating.”

This was warm and accommodating? That didn’t bode well for the next kingdom. I also found it sad that a place called the Mimosa Land was unfriendly. It sounded like a party waiting to happen.

“Thank you,” said Dorian, in the humblest voice I’d ever heard him use. “May we rest here briefly? We promise not to take long. We wouldn’t want to waste your valuable time, fair lady.” He then diminished some of his meekness by flashing her one of his charming, come-hither smiles. To my astonishment, she actually blushed. Unbelievable.

We were granted our break, but it was hardly the long bath I’d hoped for. I mostly managed to get the worst of the travel grime off and chose to stay in the clothes I’d been wearing. By Kiyo’s report, we weren’t entirely free of the blight yet, so there was no point in getting rid of the warm clothing yet. In fact, our party had to manage some tricky maneuvers to get it on and off quickly once our journey resumed. The layers were too heavy for the Beech Land but instantly needed when the road took us across the blight. After about three crossings, we stepped from the Beech Land into a new kingdom. It was evening now, and I couldn’t make out much in the darkness. The heat and humidity were immediately discernible, though. It kind of reminded me of Ohio.

“This is the Mimosa Land,” declared the Beech woman. We had never learned her name, though Dorian had certainly tried to woo it out of her with his shameless flirtation. “And here we depart. If the road maintains the pattern it has recently, you won’t cross the blight anymore.”

“Thank you,” said Dorian, sweeping her a bow. “Your kindness will not be forgotten. Nor will your beauty. My dreams will be haunted by your starry eyes and glossy hair.”