Chapter Eleven
We dragged our shopping haul toward the food stalls in the center of the plaza. Enticing scents drifted from every corner: frying meat, baking bread, sweet drinks. My mouth watered as I spotted a stall named Noodle Slurprise. A long line stretched from it, winding around tables.
Ahead of us, a family vacated a large table. Fitz sped up, throwing himself into an empty seat to claim the space. Another person aiming for the table scowled and flipped him off then shuffled away to find somewhere else.
“I’ll hold down the table,” he said. “Maximus, you’re taller than either of us—see if you can find the girls somewhere in the crowd.”
Maximus nodded, expression set like he’d been given a serious mission.
“Trey, buy us some food.”
“What am I getting?” I asked, eyes wandering back to the noodle shop. The line had doubled since we’d first passed it.
“Anything, just choose wisely,” Fitz cautioned. “Long lines mean the food will be good, but my stomach is threatening to revolt if I don’t eat soon. No line means no one wants the food.”
I wandered off, hands in my pockets as I analyzed the lines. Many of the stalls sold normal foods: grilled meats, fried fish, pasta. A few sold more unique things, like squid tentacles or deep-fried butter, whatever that was.
One line had only four people, so I joined it. In only a few minutes, it was already my turn to order. Not knowing what anyone wanted, I chose one of everything that looked appealing.
The salesperson wrote it all down, took my payment, then called out, “Next!” while workers in the back busied themselves preparing the food.
In less than ten minutes, I had a full platter to carry through the thick crowd. I stepped carefully, keeping an eye on everyone. Unfortunately, the rest of the crowd didn’t show the same respect. Someone shoved their chair backwards, right into my path.
I stopped short, lifting the platter up and away so they wouldn’t bump into it and spill it everywhere, but I’d overcompensated. I started falling backwards and didn’t have any extra hands to catch myself.
A gentle hand pressed against my back, keeping me upright.
“Tha—”
“Meet me behind Almace’s in one hour,” a familiar voice whispered in my ear.
“—nks.” By the time I turned around, the apprentice had already disappeared into the crowd.
When I turned back, Maximus stood in front of me. I jumped in alarm and would have spilled food everywhere if he hadn’t grabbed the platter to steady it. Dark brows met in a concerned frown. “Are you alright?”
The back of my neck still tingled where the apprentice’s breath had brushed against it, but I shoved the feeling away and gave Maximus a tight smile. “Fine, yeah, just trying to make it to the table.”
Maximus took the platter from me and cleared a path through the crowd.
Sometime while I’d been gone, Angelica and Delilah had joined Fitz. Instead of coming back to more shopping bags, I’d somehow come back to fewer. Now only one small, pink leather pouch sat in the middle of the table.
Fitz had a new book in front of him, already deep into his research, so he didn’t notice my arrival.
Delilah shoved the bag aside, giving Maximus room to set down the platter. “What did you get?” she asked, leaning forward to sniff the individually wrapped sandwiches. She snatched one up and crowed with delight, “Tuna!”
Angelica poked at one of the sandwiches, pushing it around until she could read the label, then reared back in disgust. “Please tell me that’s code for something and not the actual contents of this sandwich.”
I frowned and picked it up. “What’s wrong with peanut butter, banana, and bacon?”
“The fact it’s all three of them together.”
Fine, it was the one I wanted anyway. I plopped down into my seat, unwrapped the sandwich, and took a huge bite. Big mistake. The peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth and the bacon was still piping hot.
Angelica continued poking through the sandwiches, still dissatisfied but less disgusted. Eventually, she chose one with ham and cheese. Fitz chose the turkey and cheese, and Maximus took the last one, which was beef and cheese.
“Get used to it,” I told Angelica. “This is the type of food you eat on a quest.”
“Not with peanut butter, surely?”
The peanut butter had stuck my mouth together again, so I couldn’t answer until I drank some water.
Any answer I gave would have been a lie.
The combination was deliciously rich and greasy, and completely impractical for the questing life.
What if I was the only one who saw danger coming, but my words of warning came out gummy and unintelligible?
Fitz finished his sandwich in a few bites, then asked, “How far down the list did you get?”
“We got all the potions and books,” Delilah began, “and clothes for ourselves, which should be refitted before we leave. If not, the shopkeeper said she can deliver everything to the castle tomorrow. Oh, and Angelica bought a rapier.”
Heart-shaped lips turned smug as Angelica drew the golden rapier from the little pink pouch. Golden loops wound together to create an intricate guard. Something she could easily snag her fingers in if she grabbed it wrong.
“Almace’s work?” Fitz asked.
“Of course, I only deserve the best,” she said, batting golden eyelashes.
I recognized the name from the apprentice’s muttering. “What’s Almace’s?”
“Almace’s Maces and Beyond,” Fitz explained.
“The Plaza houses three armories, but the other two sell basic, ready-made weapons like daggers, arrows, and beginner swords. Things anyone can pick up and stab their eye out with. Almace’s specializes in higher quality blades and enchanted weapons.
The three of us will go there after we finish eating to choose our own weapons. ”
Somehow, I’d need to find a way to slip away from Fitz and Maximus so they wouldn’t catch me meeting with the apprentice. Though I wondered how the apprentice kept tracking me down to the point he knew where I would be before I did.
The salesperson behind the counter of Almace’s was busy with another customer, so Fitz, Maximus, and I wandered through the displays. Glass separated the weapons from grabby hands, preventing any accidental eye-stabbing. We wanted only purposeful eye-stabbing. Of other people.
I perused the example swords, debating between the one-handed and two-handed varieties. On the one hand—pun unavoidable—the first option allowed me to keep my other hand free to carry a shield or open doors. The second option had more force behind it and looked more badass.
A long shadow blocked the shop’s light, drawing my attention to Maximus. He hovered near me, eyeing the same display. “So, you’re a swordsman?” I asked, happy to finally answer that question.
He shook his head.
My brow furrowed and I looked around at the other nearby options. “Battle axe?”
Another shake.
“War hammer?”
He shrugged his oversized shoulders.
“Crossbow? Flail? Glaive? Staff? Sickle? Halberd? Whips?” Each suggestion earned another shake or shrug. I was running out of options. Looking around the shop desperately, I asked, “Maximus, what have you been trained in?”
A light flush darkened his olive skin as he admitted, “I’ve done a bit of wrestling.”
I smiled, trying to hide my disappointment.
The others all had formal weapon training of some sort—even Delilah couldn’t escape learning basic swordplay with Kit as a parent—so I’d hoped Maximus would have more to contribute during a fight.
Strength had its advantages, but muscles were no match for a blade.
The salesperson finished with their other customer and bustled over to us. “Prince Fitzroy, we are honored by your patronage.”
Fitz nodded regally. “My companion and I are seeking new equipment, and we need it fast.”
“How fast?”
“Tomorrow.”
Their eyes glimmered with avarice, but they played coy. “I’m not sure we can accommodate your highness’ request. Sir Almace is particular about perfection, and insists we measure all our clients for any custom pieces.”
“We don’t need custom, we’re happy to take whatever is readily available.”
Their shoulders drooped. “We do have a few items other customers did not come back for.”
“Perfect.”
“I don’t know, Fitz,” I said, casually examining my nails. “I don’t want cast-offs.”
Fitz quickly played along. “You have a point.”
A bead of sweat trickled down the salesperson’s brow. “They’re made from the highest quality materials—”
“Then why didn’t your customers want them?” I asked.
The salesperson straightened and proclaimed, “Once you see them, you won’t question Sir Almace’s skill ever again.” They swept through a door at the back, muttering about upstart nobility.
As soon as they were out of earshot, Fitz asked, “Why are we antagonizing the salesperson?”
“They already received a down payment for those abandoned weapons,” I explained. “If we don’t negotiate with them, they won’t just try to recoup their losses, they’ll charge us full price.”
Maximus eyed me for a moment. “You should have gone shopping with Angelica.”
“Why?”
“She said something similar,” Fitz replied. “While you were grabbing food. Delilah was impressed with her negotiation skills.”
Oh gods, do we actually have something in common? I shuddered at the thought.
“Here we are,” the salesperson said, bringing out several wrapped bundles. They laid the first on the counter and unwrapped it with a flourish. “This claymore was commissioned by the Duke of—”
“Too big,” Fitz said, waving his hand dismissively.
The salesperson sized him up, then Maximus and I, and decided Maximus was their best route to a sale. “Your friend could—”
“Doesn’t use swords,” Fitz interrupted. “Prince Treasure and I are your customers today.”
The salesperson’s eyes widened when they realized they were serving royalty from multiple kingdoms.
How long until they realize why we’re buying weapons together? I hoped we left town before rumors began to spread.