36. Chapter 36 #2
I laughed. This was becoming a regular occurrence for me around Audrie now. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell him anything.”
Popping a candied plum into my mouth, I let out an undignified and involuntary groan. It had been pitted, and it was soft and ripe from the sugar syrup it had been soaked in. “We don’t have things like this back home. They’re divine!” I crowed.
“I know. Most places don’t. That’s part of the reason I’m never going back to Hayden. I would die without my sugar plums.”
I handed her the bag, which she cradled protectively.
We found our way to a fountain in the centre of the market with a large square clearing.
“What about Tymon?”
“What about him?” Audrie said around a mouthful of candied plum.
“He married Sapphine. He doesn’t seem as though he’s happy.”
“History books definitely don’t talk about happiness. But I do know they married for more practical reasons. His home used to be a crystal and gem harvesting region.”
“Used to be?”
“The mines dried up before the war ended. Maybe too many resources were used in the war. But either way. His region was poorer then. And Sapphine’s wasn’t.”
Tymon didn’t strike me as someone who would marry for money instead of love. But maybe the love of his home was the only love he needed.
“Sapphine’s family chose him in the hopes that if they kept digging deeper, the mines would yield wealth again. They’ve been digging for nearly a century, and they’ve found next to nothing. A few meagre pockets of gems, common crystals. Nothing like Sapphine was likely hoping for.”
Maybe that was why Sapphine was so sour. Her intended marriage to the Crown had been called off, and her replacement match had come up empty.
Tymon deserved better than Sapphine. And I pitied him being trapped in a loveless marriage.
Tymon had chosen honour and duty over love. Over himself.
I envied that level of clarity. He knew what was important to him, and he had done what was needed.
We meandered back through more merchants, and Audrie stopped to tap a young man on his shoulder. “Ashen! I didn’t expect to see you anywhere but at the cakes!”
The young human man, of about thirty if I had to guess, was slight in stature with kind green eyes. His hair was tousled like he’d just woken up.
“Audrie! You’ve been absent,” he said, tucking a small parchment pack of cakes into his satchel.
“Not absent. Studying. It’s called working, Ash.” There was a camaraderie between the two that seemed childish but in an endearing sort of way, as though they’d grown up together.
Ashen bent and gave Turnip a pat. “Who is your companion?” There was a slight twinkle in his eye as he looked between Audrie and me.
“Oh. No. Not like that.” Audrie waved him off as he stood. “This is Imogen. Eh, Lady Imogen.” She turned to me and mouthed Sorry before turning back to Ashen. “She is, em, staying with Kaedian. Lord Kaedian.” This poor creature was going to injure herself trying to remember titles.
“Imogen. Just Imogen.” I extended a hand towards Ashen. “I don’t care much for titles.” I smiled, and he returned it, the freckles on his face giving him a cheerful disposition.
“Where is Hael?” Audrie looked past her friend.
Ashen flicked his mop of hair towards a stall with mountains of old tattered books.
“What he thinks he’ll find in a book stall and not in the library, I cannot tell you.
But he’s been coming here regularly now for the past couple of moons.
He’s even said he’s going to travel if he cannot find the books he wants. ”
Audrie put her hands on her hips. “Hael. Travel? You mean, leave his home and comforts?”
They both laughed at their inside joke, but quickly stopped as a man came up behind him and wrapped his arm around Ashen’s waist. He was handsome, by anyone’s standard.
Salt-and-pepper hair that fell in soft folds over his rounded ears.
A gentle stubble to his cheeks and the look of someone who spent a lot of time between pages.
“You must be Lady Imogen,” he said, extending a hand mottled with ink stains.
“How did you know?” I asked, a little confused, taking his hand.
“News gets around. And I’m a friend of Celeste’s. I might not have been at the garden party, but I certainly heard about your attendance and Kaedian’s removal from it.”
I blushed a little at that. And I wasn’t sure why.
“Don’t mind him,” Ashen said, swatting his hand from his waist. “He’s an awful gossip.”
“Historian,” Hael corrected, unabashed, as though he’d said it a thousand times.
“And besides, the real news is Lord Kaedian’s latest arrest,” Ashen said in a sombre tone.
Last night was still playing on my mind. I didn’t know what I could say and what I couldn’t. Seemingly, though, there was little Audrie didn’t say to Ashen.
With warm smiles and promises to meet soon, we left Ashen and Hael to their day.
“They were nice,” I said to Audrie once we’d parted ways.
She nodded. “Ashen is a good friend, and Hael is kind. He lends me books whenever I need them. But Ashen is right, he’s a bit of a gossip. He claims it’s historical records he’s keeping. But I think he just loves a good chin wag.”
We wandered the remaining stalls until vendors were packing up for the evening.
We’d let the sun slip behind the sandstone buildings, and the night was falling heavily around us.
As we were leaving, one merchant was only just opening up. They had dozens upon dozens of glass baubles hanging from their awning. Lanterns. Some that could fit my palm and larger ones, in shimmering shades of lavender, emerald and ochre.
“To hold your fae light so you don’t have to conjure it constantly,” the woman behind the stall explained.
I offered her a weak smile and moved on. Not for the first time since meeting Kaed, I wished I had magic in my blood, even if it was just to hold a pretty piece of something in my hand.
I spun the thought of what my magic might have been. What colour, how it would move. How I would move it.
I thought of Kaed’s. Denora’s. Gavrin’s.
And I felt like I was missing something. Last night, I’d been missing something. Those soldiers didn’t realise, they were just crushing me. They didn’t care that I couldn’t push back and defend myself.
But that piece of me was missing.