Chapter 1 #2
The walk into town from our small cottage on the outskirts is a short one.
Passing by a few other outlying cottages, I cross the rickety wooden bridge that’s situated over the river running along the town’s western edge before finding myself in the middle of town.
The main square is bustling with activity from the market.
It seems everyone is finishing up their Samhain preparations, same as me.
I pass a few stalls set up as you step into the square and smell the various food goods they’re offering, causing a rumble to call out from my stomach, alerting me that I’ve once again skipped out on breakfast in my rush to get out the door.
The sugary, sweet smell of the fried dough causes me to salivate, and I slow my steps to admire them before I shake myself out of my hunger-induced trance.
You’re not here to indulge in treats, Olivia. In and out for the bells.
I pick up my pace the slightest as I make my way through the stalls, eyeing the wares.
There’s a stand set up outside the crumbling, dark stone building that serves as the blacksmith’s shop, showing off his latest craftsmanship.
Everything from longswords to decorative letter openers.
Another stall boasts a large variety of baked goods and breads.
I nearly hesitate again, being drawn in by my hunger, but I keep moving.
I browse the stalls from afar as I pass, looking for my target.
Herbal teas and remedies, exotic spices, vibrant fabrics, crystals that claim to provide healing properties or luck.
My eyes catch on a stall featuring jewels and I find myself gravitating closer to get a better look at the items. I don’t know what it is about this stall but something about the shimmering gemstones catches my eye.
I feel like a crow, distracted by shiny objects.
I nearly snort to myself at the comparison.
“Can I help you find something, dear?” an elderly woman asks from where she’s sat on a stool behind the stall. Her gray hair is frazzled and her clothes simple, if not even a bit worn.
“Oh, no, I’m only browsing. Thank you though,” I say with a polite smile as I continue to peruse her wares.
Blood red rubies, which remind me of the screaming woman from my dream, causing a shiver to run through me.
Deep forest green emeralds in a shade matching Fleur’s eyes, bright deep blue sapphires that remind me of a bottomless ocean.
They’re all so beautiful, but nothing Fleur and I could even come close to affording.
I’m about to turn away from the stall when my gaze catches on a pendant necklace.
The chain is thin and simple, but it’s the pendant that grabs my attention.
It’s relatively plain in comparison to some of the gaudier jewelry on display.
It depicts a golden sun intertwined with a silver crescent moon.
I don’t know what it is about this one that stands out to me, there are no twinkling gemstones, just the simple metals.
But perhaps the simplicity is what makes it beautiful.
The combination of night and day, light and dark.
“Would you like a closer look?” the lady asks, releasing me from the trance I fell into admiring the necklace.
“Ah, no, it’s alright. I should really get going,” I say as I start to back away from the booth. I turn to head off to finish my search for the stall I need when I collide into the massive stone wall of a body. Hands shoot out to grip my upper arms and steady me before quickly releasing me.
“Apologies,” a deep, smoky voice that wraps around me grunts out. My eyes track the voice to the mass of a man clad in all black leather and a hood drawn up over his head, concealing his features.
“Oh gods, no, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I rush out, flustered.
“No harm done,” the man says with a jerky nod before stepping around me and continuing through the market. I watch as he starts to disappear into the crowd, which fortunately for me, he towers at least a half foot above everyone else so it’s no struggle to track his path.
I shake my head to refocus on the task at hand. Bells. Need to get the bells.
I shift my basket to my other arm when my eyes catch on a flash of golden brown at the bottom of the basket. I peer inside and staring up at me are two of the sugary, fried dough buns I saw when I entered the market.
What the fuck?
I look up and scan the market trying to see where they could have come from. The man that bumped into me is my only thought, but he appears to be long gone.
Well, when life gives you lemons and all that…
I think to myself as I retrieve one of the sticky sweet rolls and bite into it.
The moan I nearly let out as the honeyed bread hits my tongue should not be a sound made in public.
After shoving the rest of the roll into my mouth, I start off in the direction of the vendor I’m in search of.
Luckily for me, he’s always in the same place and, unsurprisingly, he has quite the supply, as he does every year around Samhain and Beltane.
“Why hello, Miss Olivia. Has Fleur lost the bells from Beltane again?” Henry, the stall owner asks with a smirk.
“You know how it goes,” I offer him an exaggerated eye roll that conveys my feelings on the matter.
I’m always back here every six months like clockwork to replace the ones from before.
“You’d think she would have figured out a better spot to store them since we use them twice a year, but apparently not,” I huff. “Could I get five more?”
I pay Henry for the bells with a quick thanks before hustling off through the market the way I came.
I pass the jeweler’s stall again and see that the necklace I was admiring is gone.
I probably couldn’t have afforded it anyway so it’s best that I’m no longer tempted.
My gaze sweeps the square as I weave through the people and stalls, but I don’t see the dark figure I try to convince myself that I’m not looking for.
But really, I should thank him for my breakfast.
I’m back at the cottage in no time, dropping the bells off to a grateful Fleur before making my way to the next cottage over, where Thomas lives.
Thomas has been my best friend—my only friend really—since he moved into the village nearly a decade ago. He’s the one person I can count on for anything.
It takes several beats after I’ve knocked for him to finally open the door.
His chin length chestnut brown hair still mussed from sleep and his hazel eyes have a groggy haze to them.
He’s only clothed from the waist down in a pair of trousers that hang low on his hips.
I would be a fool for not noticing all the curves and ridges of his muscles.
I allow myself the opportunity to stare and take it all in.
Not because I haven’t seen it before—I definitely have in our years of friendship—but because it’s rare I get the chance to just… look.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of you on my doorstep so early?” he asks with a sly grin.
He absolutely noticed me staring at his body and I roll my eyes at his confidence.
He’s the brother I never had. I don’t have any interest in him—at least not anymore—but more so admiring a fit body of the opposite sex.
And he really is the best looking of the men in our village.
He’s almost too pretty. It’s criminal really.
“It’s nearly mid-day! It’s not my fault you choose to spend the evenings at the tavern and sleep the day away,” I retort back, knowing full well I would’ve joined him at the tavern if Aunt Fleur wasn’t such a worrywart.
Tom is a regular patron at our local tavern.
And more often than not he’s taking a different woman home each night.
I’ve only managed to sneak out around Fleur a handful of times to join him, allowing me to have a couple of secret trysts of my own, but nothing so scandalous as Tom’s dalliances.
It’s been ages since I was last able to get out past her.
She caught me sneaking back in on my last evening out and really tightened up her security.
And by security, I mean that she sits up until late into the evening with hawk-like hearing.
She can hear the smallest footfall or creak of a floorboard.
Even when I don’t make a single audible sound, she still somehow hears me, and I have no idea how she does it.
I swear she’s a witch and spelled my room to alert her to my movements.
Or maybe she has little mice that spy on me and report back to their master.
“Would you like to come in?” Tom asks, shaking me out of my thoughts of taverns and men.
“Only for a moment. Fleur instructed me to come and collect you so you can aid me in gathering supplies for the feast tomorrow like the great friend that you are.” I hold the empty basket up in front of his face and smirk at him.
He hates when Aunt Fleur assigns him tasks, but he does them anyway, albeit begrudgingly, but still.
He rolls his eyes. “Of course she did. Give me a moment to make myself decent and we can be on our way.”
Tom turns to head back into his cottage and I follow, shutting the door behind me as I enter. “You can hang out. Do whatever. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Tom says before disappearing into his bedroom.
I cut through the living room until I reach the high-backed bench seat and plop down.
I let my eyes wander through the room and attached kitchen while I settle in.
It hasn’t changed in the slightest since the last time I was over.
The only thing new is the pile of unwashed dishes beside the washbasin.
What a surprise.
Tom is the embodiment of all men. Leaving a tornado of mess in his wake. I can only imagine the mess of dirty clothes in need of washing that are scattered around his bedroom. How does he have anything clean to wear if his whole closet is cluttering the floor?