Chapter Five #2
Moments passed in comfortable silence. Castien had a calming presence.
Just being near him soothed me, made me feel more relaxed than I had since I left Emberleigh.
Castien was working on his ledger, checking the sales that had been made over the course of the week.
I sneaked peeks over his shoulder, but I did not understand a single thing written there.
Acantha and Castien clearly had a well-practiced shorthand between them.
Questions were born and died on the tip of my tongue because I was curious.
I wanted to hear everything he could have to say, but the very idea of listening to anyone talk about numbers made my mind fog.
I stepped down from the stool and began wandering the stall, examining some of the timepieces on display.
“You don’t have to stay,” Castien piped up as I wandered.
My hand froze, halfway through the air between my body and a timepiece I’d not seen before.
Maybe it was one of the new things they’d put out that day.
“Do you want me to leave?” I could hear the hesitation in my own voice, and I was grateful that he probably could not hear the sadness that knotted in my stomach.
His answer was immediate. “No.”
The knot unfurled. He had not grown tired of my presence already. He did not want me to leave him alone in the stall. He still wanted my help, even if there was nothing to help with. Or maybe, I thought hopefully, he wanted my company.
I picked up the timepiece and began to examine it, the quiet settling between us again.
I had moved onto another one, one I’d seen before that he’d stated measured the stars or the moon phases or something, when he spoke again.
“You asked what was in my journal the other day.” My curiosity was piqued.
I put down the watch and walked back to the counter.
He had the leather-bound book I’d commented on out in front of him, the ties that normally bound it shut undone.
“Do you wish to look now? While it is quiet?”
I nodded and leaned forward, keen to see the contents. He opened it with reverence and pushed the book between us.
He had drawn a complicated pattern of gears with barely legible notes scribbled beside them. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the purpose behind the sketch, but I couldn’t. “What is it?” I finally asked.
“The inside of the piece you were looking at earlier,” he told me.
He began pointing out different details, explaining how they worked in his deep voice.
I did not understand the way the cogs and the gears interacted, but I would have listened to him tell me anything.
When he finished, he turned to another page and explained it.
I followed the path of his fingers as he explained each piece, and by the fourth drawing, I thought I was beginning to understand what he was talking about.
I began to ask questions, and he answered them, sprinkling in other information and stories about growing up in Gearwick. “This was actually one of Pari’s challenges,” he began as he turned to another page.
“Pari?” I questioned.
“One of my parents. They came to our family when I was seven or eight, one of Papa’s lovers who fell for Mama and Baba as well. They had two children when they came to us, and they’ve had another one since the wedding.”
“How big is your family?” I asked.
“I have Mama, Papa, Pari, and Baba. They are our parents. Then I have…” He trailed off and began counting on his fingers, his mouth forming words I couldn’t decipher, “twelve siblings?” He said it like a question.
I could not imagine having that large of a family. “Twelve?”
“I think. It feels like there are more siblings every time I blink. I would not be surprised to get home and discover that there are two more hiding about the house. And then, some of my siblings have had children of their own, and they’re always around too.”
“How big is your home?”
“Not large enough for a family as big as mine. It was why I moved out once I reached adulthood. I craved the quiet.”
“I had too much quiet.”
“Do you have no siblings?” I shook my head. “Were you lonely?”
“No.” I had been asked the question before, but my answer had never changed. “Our village was very tight knit. There were many children my age, and I had a sibling relationship with a few of them. Except I could leave when they annoyed me.”
Castien laughed. “I’m jealous.”
Hours passed as he told me stories about his inventions, his family, growing up in Gearwick.
I told him my own stories about my childhood in the village and my adulthood in Emberleigh.
Occasionally, we would stop talking to assist a customer.
Acantha had come back at one point, bringing sandwiches from one of the prepared food stalls that they insisted we try.
We ate them quickly, and by the time they were gone, Acantha had excused themself again.
The sun soon began to set. Castien and I were both caught unaware by how late it had gotten, despite the fact that we were surrounded by timepieces.
Without a word, I helped him close the stall.
Acantha appeared once more, long enough to say that they were going off to a pub with some elves they’d met at market.
(“They’ve always been the social one,” Castien explained as they walked away.) It felt as if we were both stalling the inevitable moment when we would have to leave the market and go our separate ways.
But time moved regardless of our opinion of it, and soon we were out of things to do at the stall. The market was quiet, as if we were the only two people left.
“May I walk you back to your camp?” Castien asked as we stepped onto the deserted lane.
“It’s out of your way.”
Castien nodded. “May I walk you back to your camp?” he repeated.
I agreed, and we walked back to my camp.
We talked about the day and our plans for tomorrow.
I noticed that we did not mention what strategy we would use to find me a spouse.
I wondered if I was fighting a losing battle.
There had not been a single person that interested me more than the man beside me, not the entire time we’d been at the market.
I grew quiet as we crossed into the campground.
My eyes darted toward the sound of the river.
He’d noticed my moment’s pause and took my hand, leading me away from the tents and toward the sound of the river.
When we reached it, I could still hear the camp behind us.
I could see the lights from fires and tents, smell the meals being prepared at people’s tents, but none of that mattered.
All that mattered was the way Castien looked first at the stars and then at me. All that mattered was the way his eyes moved down to my lips. His heavy hand landed on my hip, and my breath caught in my throat. Time stood still in the moment before our lips touched, and when they did, I was right.
Incendiary.