Chapter Three #2
The silence between us felt warmer than it had before, and I was suddenly reminded of that thick warmth on the riverbank, the way it reminded me of my favorite quilt.
I needed to change the topic. We were not here for me to imagine him and his devices.
We were here to find my future spouse, and we needed to get on that.
It would not be a good first impression on the person I married if I was thinking of someone else when I met them.
I had to clear my head and steer the conversation to less dangerous waters. I needed to focus on the task at hand, on the goal I’d set for the week I would be spending at Everend Market. “Where should we begin?”
“The Pavilion,” he declared without a second of thought.
I must have looked at him questioningly, because he elaborated further.
“I have been at market for several years. A lot of people who’ve met their partners here have met them at the Pavilion.
It would be a good place to start, far less intimidating than Lover’s Lane. ”
Just the name Lover’s Lane seemed intimidating, so I chose to believe him.
Besides, as he said, he’d been at Everend Market many times.
I’d only been the once, and I’d been too young to follow the intricate steps of courtship.
I had been too young to care about them.
It wasn’t even until then that I’d felt the early stirrings of attraction for another person.
I nodded my agreement, and we went off toward the Pavilion.
As we walked, he told me about some of the improvements he’d made to his father’s earlier designs in timepieces.
He had a natural talent for cogs and gears, and he’d learned ways to make them keep turning much longer than a standard timepiece would.
When I hinted that it might be magic, he seemed reluctant to label it as such.
He preferred to call it science, and if that was his preference, then I could respect it.
He asked me about my jobs, though they were far less exciting than anything he offered.
I was telling him about the clothing shop I worked at in exchange for some coin and new garments as we entered the Pavilion itself.
Elves milled around, but my attention was on Castien.
I told him about the shopkeeper, an older elf from Emberleigh who knew which herbs and plants and berries made the best dyes.
“She has a book like yours,” I told him, indicating the leather-bound book tucked in his waistband.
“Is that the same one you had when we met?”
“No,” he told me with an amused smile. “I have had many since that book. I fill at least two or three every year, more sometimes.”
“What are in the pages?”
“Notes, drawings, and ideas.” He fingered the edges of the book, almost as if he were contemplating opening it and showing me the contents it held. He withdrew his hand, still empty, and folded it in front of him. “I will tell you more about them later.”
Later.
I liked the sound of later, of knowing the mysteries it held inside. It would be like glancing inside Castien’s head, seeing what made him tick like the timepieces he loved to create.
I forced myself to focus again, to take in those around me.
I saw many attractive potential suitors, but none of them drew me like the promise of peeking inside that bound book.
After all, I had met many people who were attractive on the surface but had no depth to them.
What was to say that I would not find the same here, where everyone strutted about like peacocks in their best outfits, looking to attract favorable attention?
Not that I had any room to speak. I, too, was displaying my finest plumage for the same reason. What if I also had no depth?
“You have to speak to someone,” Oleander reminded me. I felt the brush of his shoulder against mine, and that heavy blanket feeling returned. I knew he was correct, but I did not wish him to be. I did not wish to speak to anyone but him, though it would not help me reach my goal.
His plan would.
I studied the people around me. “Who?” I asked.
“You told me what you were looking for, but you did not tell me what you’re attracted to. How could I possibly answer this question?”
“Warm eyes and strong arms,” I answered without thinking. Warm brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. Eyes that focused so intensely yet could be filled with the stars from the sky when they were excited.
“Do you have a preference as to gender?”
“No.” The pull I felt toward a person had never held any set pattern, other than strong arms and warm eyes and, perhaps, lips that looked as if they’d feel soft against mine.
“Do you have a preference for anything else in looks? Fair hair or dark? Taller or shorter than you? Do you prefer someone who is lean like you, or do you prefer someone thicker?” He paused. “I would assume, based upon your preference for strong arms, that you also desire a strong body.”
I nodded. “I do. I do not mind lean bodies, but…” I trailed off. How could I tell him I preferred something I could grab onto when we were in the bedroom? Warmth spread across my face to the tips of my ears. “I do prefer those who can keep me warm at night.”
That was preferable to lewd commentary about my sexual preferences.
Oleander pointed out a few potentials, and I found fault in each of them.
I did not like the jawline on one. Another was poorly dressed.
Another was leaning in too close to the elf they were with to be unattached, and I did not wish to interfere with a potential marriage match.
I sounded shallow. I knew this, and I knew that I would not be able to plumb the depths of anyone if I kept denying everyone he pointed out.
I vowed to approach the next person he pointed out.
It was a woman with hair the color of tree bark and skin darkened by the sun.
She was well dressed, and she was standing with an elf that looked to be old enough to be her parent.
Oleander wished me luck, and I approached.
It did not take long to know this would not be someone I could spend my life with.
All the questions were about the amount of coin I could bring to a marriage, the amount of land I held in Emberleigh, and what kind of life I could give her and our potential children.
She turned her nose up at me when I told her I held no land, had little coin, and worked multiple jobs that held no perceived value.
When I returned to Oleander’s side, he offered a sympathetic smile and a pat on my leg that sent fire coursing through my veins. “She was not your future wife?”
“Nor was I her future husband,” I confirmed. “She wanted someone who could bring her wealth.”
“Perhaps we’ll have better luck tomorrow.
” He rose from the bench we were sitting at and offered a hand down to me, pulling me up to my feet despite the fact that I was at least a head taller than him.
I noticed the strength of his arms when he pulled me up and the way his eyes glimmered, as if they held the stars. “I should get back to Acantha.”
We started back toward his stall. Halfway there, I decided that I wanted to spend more time with him.
“Would you like my help?” I offered. He fixed his dark eyes on me.
“I’m sure Acantha would like to explore the market, and while I do not know your product very well, I am good at talking to people. ”
“Are you? You didn’t show it at the Pavilion.”
My jaw fell slack, and then I laughed. “Perhaps no one there caught my interest!”
He hummed, but he agreed to my plan. I would help him in the stall this afternoon in exchange for the help he’d given me this morning.
He did not realize I was getting the better end of this bargain.