Page 39 of Broken Hearted
“Free samples. The best beignets in the Southern Kingdom.”
“Handmade silk. The finest in all of Ethereum!”
“Tinctures to cure any ailment!”
“Perfumes from the Southern Isles’ flowers!”
There were so many different items, I almost didn’t know where to look first. A few of the merchants called out to Adrien by name, offering him hellos and well wishes He smiled and waved back at them, but didn’t stop until a sailor jumped out in front of us.
The fae was a short man whose skin was overly tanned and leathery. He had pants on that were frayed at the ankles, and a faded striped shirt. He pulled off his hat and started twisting it in his hands. It was clear the fae was agitated about something. “Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lord,” he said, ducking his head. “But I need to be havin’ a word with ya.”
Adrien shifted slightly so that his body was protecting me. It was unnecessary. I was a powerful princess who could take care of herself, but the gesture was undeniably sweet.
“Can it wait?” Adrien asked. “We’re to set sail this morning.”
He shook his head. “I sorry to be interrupting ya, but this canna wait. It’s urgent.” The man’s gaze shifted to me and I felt Adrien stiffen. “Perhaps we should talk in private,” the tanned fae suggested.
Adrien glanced down at me with a frown, and then back up at the weathered sailor. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. “This will just take a moment,” he told me.
“It’s okay,” I said, not put off by the interruption because it meant I could look around the market.
“I’ll just be over there,” Adrien pointed to an area off to the side where he could speak with the sailor but still stay in view.
I nodded, and Adrien and the fae stepped out of the main thoroughfare. I couldn’t hear what the fae was saying anymore, but he was talking adamantly, waving his arms and making big gestures. Adrien’s face intensified, and I wondered what they were speaking of when I felt a light touch on my arm.
Glancing over, and then down, I saw there was a young fae standing beside me. She was probably no older than six or seven and was holding out a blue shawl. She had round cheeks and the cutest pair of pearlescent horns peeking out from her head of blonde corkscrew curls.
“This one matches your eyes, milady,” she said, and when she grinned up at me I could see a tiny pair of fangs. I didn’t know what type of unseelie she was, but she was adorable.
I crouched down to her level and inspected the shawl she was holding. It was a beautifully embroidered piece of light-blue silk. And she was right, the color did resemble my eyes.
“This is so pretty,” I said with a smile.
She pointed to the stall several feet behind her where there were a variety of different-colored fabrics on display, and then tugged my sleeve, trying to get me over there. I straightened with a chuckle and followed her over to where a woman a few years younger than my own mother stood behind a table covered in skirts, talking to another customer.
The little girl stayed by my side, showing me various embroideredclothes and fabrics. Even though she was young, she was a good sales-person. The quality of the work was exceptional, but my interest kept returning to the first shawl she’d brought to me.
“I think I’d like to get this,” I told her and asked the price.
It was fair and there was no way I was going to haggle with a child, so I dug into my coin purse only to realize I was out of money. Zane had given me a decent amount, but I’d spent most of it on the innkeeper and the fae who had put the rune on Adrien for me, and then left what I had remaining for whoever owned the cabin we’d broken into.
“I’m sorry,” I told her with a frown and the little girl’s face fell. “It’s beautiful, but I’m afraid I’m out of money.”
“Oh,” she said.
“There you are,” came a voice behind me and I twisted to watch Adrien join me.
His gaze dropped to the shawl in my hand. “It reminds me of your eyes,” he said, and a warm feeling bloomed in my chest.
“That’s what I said,” the little girl piped up and Adrien smiled back at her.
“Well, then she must have it,” Adrien reached into his own pocket for the coin.
I was about to stop him when the woman behind the table finally finished with her customer and turned to us. Her eyes grew large when she spotted Adrien. “My lord,” she said, dropping into a curtsey.
Adrien went to hand her the money for the shawl, but she tried to wave him off. “If you like it, it’s yours,” she said.
Adrien shook his head and then reached into his pocket andpulled out a few extra coins. “Nonsense,” he told her. “I can tell the superiority of the work. Whoever embroidered this is very talented.”
