The Jealous Girlfriend Makes a Scene
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WREN LOADED HER PURSE with trade goods, mentally cataloging what she had: fresh silk garments, several velvet pieces, new batches of soap, the beefsteak tomatoes (carefully wrapped), bags of honeyberries, rubber products, shellfish and GreenHam, and—because she couldn't resist—a bag full of the thin mint "coins. "
Her purse was getting quite the workout.
"Planning to buy out the store, madam?" Walter asked from his perch.
"I need a washing machine, or something like it. I am not hand-washing clothes in a bucket forever." Surely they had something useful here. If she could grow magical trees, someone must have found a way to make laundry easier.
"Practical as always."
She mounted her horse—she was getting quite good at it now—and the dandelions formed up around her. They'd been more cautious since losing their companion, staying tighter to her on the road.
The ride to town was becoming routine. Pleasant, even. The morning was clear, the road well-maintained, and she could see the town bustling with activity as she approached.
The guards waved her through with barely a glance. "Morning, Miss Wren."
"Morning."
Her dandelions took their usual position outside the gate without needing to be told. She continued into town, riding to Madame Lin's first.
The marketplace was busy. She caught whispers as she passed:
"—that's her—"
"—silk sold out in an hour—"
"—Viktor Andersen's been asking—"
She ignored them and tied her horse outside the seamstress shop. It was mostly for looks, since she doubted he’d wander off.
The bell chimed as she entered. Madame Lin looked up from her work and her face lit up. "Please tell me you have more silk!"
"I do." Wren began unloading. "And the cotton clothes you made should be ready?"
"Ready and waiting." Madame Lin practically snatched up the silk garments, examining them with the same reverence as last time. "This quality! I still can't believe it. I have six standing orders already."
They negotiated quickly—Madame Lin clearly didn't want to risk losing Wren as a supplier. Twenty silver for the silk, and the cotton work clothes were thrown in as part of the trade.
"Bring me everything you can spare," Madame Lin said as Wren changed into one of the new cotton riding dresses in the fitting room. "I'll take it all."
The cotton dress fit perfectly—practical, comfortable, and actually matched local fashion. Much better than velvet for everyday wear.
Next stop was Mei's.
The general store was busy as always. Mei finished with a customer and beckoned Wren over. "Good timing. I need to restock the soap—sold out yesterday."
Wren unloaded her goods: velvet pieces, soap, beefsteak tomatoes, honeyberries, rubber gloves, meats, and the thin mints.
Mei examined everything with her usual efficiency. "The tomatoes look good, nice and red."
"They’re beefsteak tomatoes...except they're actually steaks." Wren grinned.
Mei unwrapped one, examined it, and laughed. "Of course they are! These will sell well." She picked up a thin mint coin, unwrapped it. "And these?"
"The money plant didn't make money. Made mints instead."
"Children will love them." Mei calculated quickly. "I’ll take the lot.”
“Great! And I wanted to ask—is there such a thing as a washing machine? Something to agitate clothes in water?"
"You mean a wash drum?" Mei gestured toward the window. "There's a craftsman two streets over who makes them. Wooden barrel with an internal paddle, you mount it over running water. The current turns it."
"That's perfect. I have a stream now."
Mei raised an eyebrow but didn't ask. "They run about eight silver for a good one. I can give you directions."
They settled accounts and Mei drew a quick map to the craftsman's shop.
The workshop smelled of wood shavings and oil. The wash drum the craftsman showed her was beautifully made, a sealed barrel with a door for loading clothes, internal paddles and a mount that would sit over water.
"Eight silver, and I'll deliver it this afternoon," the craftsman offered.
"Deal!" She would have paid twice the price.
She left the shop feeling accomplished. Washing problem solved. Trade relationships established. Money in her purse. Everything was—
"Miss Wren."
She turned.
A man stood there—tall, well-dressed, with dark hair silvered at the temples and an easy, confident smile. Handsome, older than her but not by much. His clothes were fine quality, his bearing that of someone used to success. He looked vaguely familiar.
"I was hoping I might run into you. Do you have a moment?"
She hesitated, suddenly very aware of her new cotton dress and the fact that she'd been hauling trade goods around all morning. "I... yes?"
"Excellent! I'm Viktor Andersen. We met at the pastry shop." He extended his hand, his smile warm and genuine. "I own the properties surrounding yours. I've been meaning to welcome you to the neighborhood properly."
“Oh! I remember now.” This was the landowner Jin had warned her about. But he seemed... nice. His handshake was warm, his expression open and friendly.
"That's kind of you," she said carefully.
"Not at all. It's wonderful to see someone finally making that land work." He gestured down the street. "Walk with me? I promise I'm not as intimidating as the Marshall probably made me sound."
She laughed despite herself. "He might have mentioned you."
"I'm sure he did. Jin's protective of his territory, and it's part of what makes him good at his job." Viktor's tone was respectful, not dismissive. "But I'm simply a neighbor who's impressed by what you've accomplished. That land has been cursed for decades. What you're doing is remarkable."
They walked slowly through the market. Viktor nodded greetings to various merchants, clearly well-known and respected.
"I've tried to buy that property several times over the years," he continued. "But the curse made it worthless. No one could work it. I'd actually given up on ever seeing it productive." He glanced at her. "Then you arrived and apparently just... fixed it."
"I didn't fix the curse. My plants just aren't affected by it."
"Even more remarkable. Magic that bypasses a generational curse?" He smiled. "You're going to be very successful, Wren."
The way he said her name was warm, almost intimate. She felt herself blushing slightly. "I hope so. I still have a lot to learn."
"If you ever need anything—advice about the area, help with supplies, connections with other landowners—please don't hesitate to ask." He stopped, turning to face her. "We should support each other out here. The outer properties can be dangerous, especially for someone new."
"That's very generous..."
"Viktor." The voice was cold, female and furious.
Wren turned to see a woman approaching. Beautiful, mid-twenties, with sharp features and eyes that could cut glass. She wore an expensive dress, and the air around her seemed to shimmer with barely contained energy.
Viktor's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his posture. "Lyra. Good morning."
"Don't you 'good morning' me!" Lyra's gaze fixed on Wren like a predator sizing up prey. "This is her? The cursed farm girl you've been so interested in?"
"I'm being neighborly."
"Neighborly!" Lyra laughed, sharp and bitter. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Wren took a step back. The air was definitely shimmering now. Heat? Magic?
"Lyra." Viktor's voice didn't rise, but there was steel in it. "We've discussed this."
"We discussed you being patient while you figured out your business interests. We did not discuss you charming some—" She bit off whatever word she'd been about to use.
"Miss Wren, I apologize," Viktor said calmly, not taking his eyes off Lyra. "Lyra is upset about a private matter that has nothing to do with you."
"About being dropped like garbage the moment someone with land showed up?" Lyra's hands clenched. The air around her crackled. "About being courted for two years and then dismissed because this...this nobody makes your perfect property square?"
Two years. They'd been together for two years. Wren's stomach dropped. No wonder the woman was angry.
"That's enough." Viktor's tone was still controlled, but harder now. Not angry, just... firm. Final.
"It's not nearly enough."
Wind whipped through the street suddenly. Unnatural wind, focused and angry. Wren's hair flew back, and her horse shifted nervously.
"Lyra." Viktor caught her arm, his grip gentle but unyielding. "Control yourself. You're making a scene."
"Good! Let everyone see! Let everyone know that Viktor Andersen uses people and discards them when something better comes along!"
People were gathering. Staring. Whispering.
Wren backed away while they were distracted, grabbed her horse's reins and led him away, using him as a barrier between the combatants. How awkward! She barely even knew the man, and now she definitely wanted nothing to do with him.
Behind her, she could hear Viktor's voice, low and patient but firm, and Lyra's furious responses getting quieter as he presumably pulled her aside.
But the damage was done. Everyone had seen, and now it would be the talk of the town.
Whatever Lyra thought was happening between her and Viktor, the entire town now thought it too. She made a face. Drama! Ugh.
After fleeing the Viktor/Lyra scene, Wren ducked into a side street and took several deep breaths, trying to refocus.
She couldn't just leave; she had things she needed.
The silly scene back there had nothing to do with her, and she refused to let some jealous woman's tantrum chase her out of town like a scared rabbit.
She would leave it behind like a bad smell and carry on.
She straightened her shoulders, checked that her purse was secure, and headed back into the marketplace. Different section this time, away from where quarreling lovers had been.
First stop: a general goods shop she hadn't visited before. The proprietor was an elderly man with kind eyes.