Chapter 37
Amryn
The dress fittings took longer than Amryn had anticipated. Piera Denvoux was clearly a woman who did not settle for less than perfection, and Amryn didn’t dare argue with her.
Elowen did.
Piera and Elowen had decades between them in age, but they bickered like comfortable old friends.
And they were both talented when it came to matters of fashion.
Their understanding of styles, color, and fabrics was impressive.
They discussed textures, shades, and cuts easily and rapidly, and only a fraction of it made any sense to Amryn.
At one point, she realized only Ford and Ivan were seated near the front window of the shop. When she asked where Carver had gone, Ford had shrugged. “He said he had an errand to run, and he’d meet us after.”
Once Piera had gotten all she needed from them—and all the input from Elowen she seemed able to stand—the Palarian woman shooed them from her store.
“Sa ve!” she muttered, for perhaps the hundredth time.
“I’ll need every waking moment to get these done in time.
” At the door, she paused long enough to give Amryn a nod and deliver a swift peck against Elowen’s cheek—which Elowen returned easily—before Piera slammed the door in their faces.
Elowen grinned as she twisted away from the shop. “She adores me.”
“And yet, she also seems annoyed by you,” Ford said. “Funny, I think most everyone in your life can relate to that.”
Elowen kicked his shin, making him stumble and curse.
Ivan tracked the interplay, the skin around his eyes tightening.
Amryn peered up and down the street. The crowds were even thicker than before, and without the muting ability of the bloodstone she would have been utterly overwhelmed.
As it was, the emotions she felt were only a dull hum.
With some searching—and a little borrowed power from the bloodstone that helped her focus her gift—she found a pulse of confident strength she recognized instantly as belonging to Carver.
He was nearby, but she couldn’t see him.
He must have entered one of the other shops, or perhaps he was on an adjacent street.
“I’m starving,” Elowen declared. “Is everyone ready for Market Square?”
“What about Carver?” Amryn asked.
Elowen shrugged. “He knew we wanted to head to the square afterwards. He can find us there.”
Amryn glanced toward the square that opened farther down the street.
The carefree sound of pipe music drifted through sounds of laughter and the low thrum of voices.
She had a feeling it wouldn’t be easy for Carver to find them.
Not with the crowds she could just make out. But no one else seemed worried.
Elowen took Amryn’s arm and pulled her toward the square, Ivan and Ford falling into step behind them.
Market Square teemed with energy and life.
Distractions abounded, and Amryn hardly knew where to look first. Shops and eateries lined the vast plaza, though there were many carts and stands offering wares and services as well.
A large central fountain with towering stone sculptures of stampeding horses dominated the busy hub.
A few people were tossing small coins into the pool, grinning as they did so.
A woman nearby was painting the faces of delighted children in bright and colorful designs.
Musicians played merrily for coin, filling the entire quarter with the sounds of flutes, drums, and violins.
The scents of seared meats, fresh fruits, roasted vegetables, and seasoned flat breads saturated the air.
One cart Amryn saw was filled to the brim with honeyed candies and roasted nuts, and another sold only coffee.
There were also jugglers and other street performers entertaining for a coin or two.
Small tents had been set up in the mouths of alleys and the edges of the square, offering an assortment of bright scarves, beaded jewelry, and other small trinkets.
Elowen encouraged Amryn to try several different foods as they wandered, and even though she was only sampling the various fare, she was soon too full to eat another bite.
The afternoon sun heated the air relentlessly, even with the cooling mist that drifted from the large fountain.
When Amryn spied a young man selling delicately painted fans, it was the first time she wished she had coin of her own.
She hadn’t been allowed to bring any to Esperance, and it hadn’t been something she’d needed since leaving the temple.
The fan would be a practical purchase in this heat, but Amryn also saw one that—when expanded—depicted a beautiful, forested mountain with craggy cliffs on one side and a glassy blue lake nestled below. It reminded her of home.
“That’s exquisite,” Elowen said, coming to stand beside her as Amryn admired the fan.
She smiled, first at Elowen, then apologetically to the young man who tried to hand the fan to her. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the coin for it.”
Ford’s barking laugh made her jump. “I can’t wait to tell Carver you think he can’t afford to buy a bloody fan.”
Amryn’s cheeks, already reddened from the sun, warmed further. “That’s not—I don’t think—”
Elowen patted Amryn’s arm, her smile just as wide as Ford’s, though her expression was a shade gentler. “My brother may have failed to mention this, but he’s wealthy. Very wealthy. You could buy every fan on that cart, and he wouldn’t even blink.”
“Well, he might wonder why you needed so many fans,” Ford chuckled.
Amryn shifted uneasily. “But it’s his coin, not mine.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Elowen warned. “You’re his wife. His wealth is yours. He wouldn’t want you to view it any other way.” She handed Amryn a coin and winked. “I’ll make sure Carver pays me back. And that he gets you a purse of your own.”
Still feeling a little hesitant, Amryn passed over the single coin and purchased the fan.
As they turned away from the cart, Elowen gasped. “Oh my goodness, yes!” She snatched Amryn’s free hand and hauled her to a nearby tent. A wooden sign leaned against the dark canvas, proclaiming: Fortunes Told Here – One Silver Piece
“It’s a hoax,” Ford said, hands in his pockets as he eyed the sign. “You’d just be paying to hear lies.”
“It’s fun,” Elowen countered, digging in her purse.
“We’re all getting our fortunes told—my treat.
” She strode up to the tent, where a hulking man appeared to be standing guard.
He was probably close to fifty, but his thick arms were still defined with muscle, and the silver in his hair only made him appear more severe.
His emotions were cautious, alert, and decidedly prickly as he watched them approach.
Elowen gave him a charming smile, undaunted by his intense stare. “Is the fortune-teller available?”
Ford snorted. “Not much of a seer if she didn’t see an eager customer coming her way.”
“True,” a melodious voice said from behind them. “It would be quite an embarrassing oversight on my part.”
They all turned, and Amryn’s eyes widened.
The self-professed fortune-teller was undeniably beautiful and surprisingly young—only a couple of years older than Amryn, she guessed.
She had vivid emerald eyes that stood out starkly against her porcelain skin.
She wore soft-looking black gloves and a flowing cloak of dark purple velvet with the hood pushed back, leaving her angular face exposed.
Her pale blonde hair was piled onto her head in a knotted bun made up of multiple braids, some small, some thick.
Amryn felt a little defensiveness from her, but mostly amusement—and perhaps a little appreciation—as she studied Ford from head to toe. “Have you always been skeptical of the supernatural?”
Her words snapped Ford out of his momentary stunned silence. A smirk melted over his face. “Only when it charges me a silver coin to believe.”
“Ah.” The woman smiled. “I should have sensed it before. You’re a skeptic who wishes to believe, only he’s too cynical to allow himself the luxury. A soldier, perhaps? One who’s seen battle, I’d wager.”
A shadow moved through Ford’s eyes. He folded his arms over his chest, his gaze narrowing. “I thought you were supposed to see the future, not play guessing games about my past.”
The woman’s jeweled eyes glittered. “And yet our pasts so often shape our future.”
Ford’s lips pressed into a line while Elowen laughed. “Oh, you’re delightful,” she told the fortune-teller.
“Not the word I’d choose,” Ford muttered.
Elowen slapped his arm. “Be nice.” She smiled at the woman before them. “Are you available to give us all readings?”
“Of course.” She eyed Ford. “Though I must say I’m not glimpsing great things in the skeptic’s future.”
Ford’s jaw flexed. “I make my own fortune.”
Her red lips curved. “You wouldn’t be the first man to think so.” Glancing at all of them, she gestured to the tent flap. “One at a time, if you please. You can give your coin to Marc as you enter. I don’t like to sully my second sight with something so mundane as payment.”
A snort came from Ford.
The young woman only winked at him as she lifted the tent’s flap.
Elowen paid four silver coins to Marc—who was watching them all closely, though he didn’t say a word—before she followed the fortune-teller into the tent.
The square behind them was loud enough that Amryn couldn’t hear a word that was said inside, but she felt Elowen’s thrum of excited anticipation.
Ford took up a position that kept Marc and the tent in his sight but also allowed him to view the square. Ever the protective soldier.
Ivan shifted a little closer to Amryn, though his eyes also scanned the crowd. She couldn’t help but smile at how frequently his attention returned to the fortune-teller’s tent.