Chapter 3
ARIAH
My head has never held itself higher than today.
An exultant grin keeps forcing itself on my face, even with me making attempts to hide it.
I just denied council, making me the second person in all of Foxhead to ever do so.
Knowing they will try to make my life a nightmare should come with fear, but I can’t find it. I’m utterly buzzing.
Walking the cobblestone path of Foxhead Village, I am nothing but smiles. I’m even tempted to dance through the streets, but knowing that’s a foolish move keeps my feet planted on the ground.
Even the air smells different, fresher in a way I never noticed before. My nose picks up on the scent of panicle hydrangeas, along with a mix of honey and rum that escapes Lady Emm’s Sweet Treats shop.
The walk to work is how I imagine taking a stroll through the clouds would feel. A blissful weightlessness, with not a single burden to anchor me to this world.
Drawing closer to the dress shop, I pick up on the not-so-subtle glances of the blacksmith across the road, Tristen Marden. He’s a few years older than me and works under the apprenticeship of his uncle. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him, but it is the first time I notice him, noticing me.
I’m surprised the council hasn’t tried to play matchmaker for him.
My bottom lip slips between my teeth as I lightly bite down.
I wonder if it had been him sitting in there with me, if I would have been more swayed to say yes.
Despite the sage green of his eyes that I wouldn’t mind being trapped in, or his smile that holds an obnoxious dimple on his left cheek, I would have still denied council. I think.
Pulling myself from the distraction across the street, I slip through the door of the dress shop. A bell chimes, and I’m bombarded with heat from the lit fireplace in the small sitting area off to the right.
None of the oil lamps are lit and besides the light of the fire, the rest of the shop is cloaked in darkness. Not even the OPEN sign has been turned over, despite the door being
unlocked.
“Mrs. Kimpol!?” I shout, heading to the sewing station at the back of the shop. “Are you here?”
A loud thud from the floor above causes me to jump, nearly knocking over a box of crystal beads that would have taken me forever to clean up.
There are more footsteps and then another loud thud at the top of the stairs.
Grunts and heavy breaths get closer until a door swings open and a suitcase is tossed into the shop.
“Mrs. Kimpol?” I ask once more, seeing a body emerge from the threshold.
The person descending the stairs jumps back and screams. A package they are holding falls to the ground along with a basket that tips over, causing bread and some dried fruit to roll out onto the floor.
“Ariah,” Mrs. Kimpol says between shallow breaths. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be off with your betrothed.”
My face scrunches as if inhaling a terrible stench. “Why would you think that? I told you I would be here. And why are you still closed?”
Picking up the food that escaped, she sets her things down on the worktable. “If you must be nosy, I decided to close for the day. Rarold and I will be heading to Picktum Creek to enjoy a nice getaway.” Walking around the table, she comes to me. “Ariah, why in all of Ladora are you here?”
She doesn’t have on her usual shop attire.
On most days, she wears an ordinary cream dress that suits the deep rich undertones of her skin, with a marvelous mossy-green apron with hand-sewn flowers, created by yours truly.
I had originally created it for my sister for her twenty-eighth birthday, but once Mrs. Kimpol caught a glimpse—she twisted me into selling it to her.
Today, she is in a fancy dress as is she has no intentions of working at all.
“I denied them.” I straighten my back and light the oil lamp on the table.
“You did what?” She stops me from walking away. “I heard that they selected Morren Beetlerum for you. Do you know how much that boy’s family is worth? They own most of Foxhead. You mean to tell me you turned that down?”
Dara Kimpol is a sweet woman with a slight obsession for moinlings.
Her husband Rarold runs Foxhead Bank and is known to possess quite a bit of coin himself.
Dara, like several others in this village, had a marriage arranged for her.
She was quite adamant that I take whatever offer they give to me, and now I can see why.
Despite not knowing her husband before they met, they are extremely close, I would have never guessed their alliance was one arranged for them.
“I already told you, Mrs. Kimpol, I want to travel outside the boundaries of this village. Maybe even see beyond this kingdom. I want to know who I am before knowing anyone else. I don’t even know all the things my heart desires.
How do a bunch of old men?” Mrs. Kimpol sighs and gives me a defeated smile before I continue, “When I marry, if I ever marry, it will be because that’s what I want.
In the meantime, council can go bug someone else because they get nothing from me. ”
“As you say, dear.” She pats my arm, and I know that’s her way of disagreeing without offering further argument.
She collects her items and starts heading to the door.
“The shop will remain closed for the next three days. Go spend time with your family. Isn’t your sister about to deliver any day now? ”
“Three days? I can keep the shop going for you.” I rush to her side like a dog begging for a treat. “I’ll keep it up and running. That way, you wouldn’t have to miss out on any earnings.”
She shoos me. “Oh, I’m not worried about that.
” She stops with her hand lightly on the doorknob.
A finger goes to her chin and she mumbles inaudibly to herself.
Suddenly, she begins searching her pockets until she finds one she likes.
She then pulls out a floral coin pouch and holds it out for me.
“This should cover the next couple of days. No need to have you miss out on moinlings because I want to have a little fun.”
She perks up and swings the door open. My fingers feel along the pouch and I don’t even have to open it to know this is much more than my wages for three days.
“Mrs. Kimpol, I can’t—” She gives me no time to finish before I feel her pushing me out the door.
“Hush girl,” she orders once we’re outside. “Take it and go enjoy yourself.”
She locks the door to the shop and checks it once more to make sure it is secure. I help carry her bag to her wagon, and she plants a kiss atop my head before climbing up.
With the reins in hand she gives me one last look.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but if I were you, I would see if I could get council to offer me the deal once more.
Once you get to be my age, comfort and stability are what you will depend on the most, and if someone is willing to offer it, I would take them up on it.
And who knows, dear, you might end up falling madly in love with him later in life.
” She fixes her sights ahead and flicks her reins. “See you soon, dear.”
“I doubt it,” I mumble before stuffing the coin purse in the pocket of my dress.
With nothing else to do with my day, I begin walking through town, making my way to the outskirts of the village. I dread the opinions my sister will unwarily share, but I make my way to her anyway.
The day is still a glorious one. The weather is perfect and the sky is bright and clear.
Poking out above the various homes and shops are the Rosewood Mountains.
The snowy peaks tease me with exploration.
Just another place on my list to visit. Feeling the coins jingle in my pocket, as if a reminder of what I just acquired, I wonder if I have enough to go on an adventure of my own.
Surely that journey would take more than three days, and I highly doubt Mrs. Kimpol would mind.
She probably would push me to concede and give in if given the chance.
I spot a large crack on the cobblestone path. One invaded by a moss that is my favorite shade of green. I jump over it, much like I did when I was a child. A game Luna, my best friend, and I used to play as children. There was never any point to it. Just something for us to do.
Up ahead, I spot Shea’s trolley. He is a wild old soul and the village florist. As usual, I rush to my favorite section. Every day I stop and touch the hydrangeas in his cart. Having a garden of my own I never purchase anything, but his are too pretty not to admire.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Ms. Tyddle, you either buy them or keep your grubby little hands off?” he says in a Saden accent as he comes around the corner with a wink and a grin. He looks around to make sure no one is near. “Have you seen the new ones yet?”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice before I start scanning the flowers.
All I see are the usual ones. “Where? If you’re referring to the green ones, I saw those the other day.
Stunning, but not as pretty as the…baby…
blue.” My sentence slows as he pulls flowers from behind his back.
He and I both know my obsession with hydrangeas, and he’s just shown me the most beautiful ones I’ve ever seen.
The petals are like butterfly wings and the color looks like it’s been painted with rose gold and sprinkled with crushed diamonds. I take them from him without permission. “How did you get them like this?”
He leans in close before sharing, “Crushed eggshell in the fertilizer and I let loose magis worms. Harmless to the plant, but that nasty, shimmer goop they leave behind does wonders.”
My head snaps up with the perfect idea. “This is a good inspiration for a dress. How much?”
“For you? Nothing. Plus, I heard what you did at council and that alone deserves free flowers—for life.”