Chapter 5
ELLA
HONAU
“They’re worth far more than you’re offering,” I argue with Harriett, the shopkeeper.
My mother’s jewels glisten on the counter. I hate how they sparkle as if begging me to keep them. Letting them go is like allowing another part of my mother to slip away.
“Sorry, sweets.” She waves her hand, showing off fingernails caked with dirt.
Her straw-colored hair looks desperate to escape its bun, and her brown eyes stare dully at me like I’m wasting her time.
“I don’t even know who’d buy such finery.
Not a soul in these parts has time for such frivolity.
The only reason I’m even offering thirty thalers is I heard about your father abandoning you.
I’m sure it’s not your fault. Likely, he couldn’t get over your mother’s death.
Sad news, for sure. Is it true your mother never got a proper church burial? ”
My chaperone, Madame Wagner, clears her throat in obvious annoyance from where she stands by the window.
I clasp my gloved hands and hold back a cutting remark.
What did I expect? Everyone around here knows everyone’s business.
A part of me begs to run out of the shop right now, but the other part keeps my feet rooted to the floor.
I refuse to let pride stand in the way of keeping my household running.
“Thirty thalers isn’t even close to what these are worth,” I finally say.
“Excuse me,” a male’s voice says from behind me.
I turn to discover a handsome man with mesmerizing emerald eyes and auburn curls, dressed in a white tunic of fine linen and tan breeches. Definitely not from these parts. I know everyone here.
“Such lovely pieces,” he says, stepping up to the counter beside me. He smells of expensive cologne.
“Thank you.” My cheeks burn in embarrassment. A lady isn’t supposed to be in town hawking off family heirlooms. Then again, he doesn’t have to know who I am.
“My stepmother is out of sorts of late.” He touches one of the bracelets with hands that have clearly never seen hard labor. “Perhaps I could purchase them for a good price. You are selling them, yes?”
I lift my eyebrows. Is he serious? If so, he might pay more.
“Hey, there,” Harriett interjects sourly. “I don’t know who you are, coming to my shop, trying to take over. Once Ella and I finish our exchange, then you can speak to me. That’s the way of it.”
My mouth drops open. The dirty little trickster was only seconds ago trying to undersell me, and now this? Well.
“Actually, I am selling them,” I tell him firmly.
“Excellent.” The man’s green eyes twinkle, and he shoots the shopkeeper a look that’s a mix of mirth and utter contempt.
“You’re selling them to me,” Harriett emphasizes. “This is my shop.”
I ignore her and focus on the man. “I haven’t finalized my deal with Harriett because we couldn’t reach an acceptable arrangement. Perhaps you’d like to make an offer?”
“You’re trusting this stranger over me?” Harriett huffs. “He could be the one kidnapping the villagers!”
He chuckles like he’s thoroughly enjoying this game. “I’m a traveling merchant. This one might be my favorite.”
He lifts my mother’s intricate ruby-studded necklace.
It glitters in the dim shop light. My heart pangs, remembering the last time she wore it.
Christmas dinner. We had just sat down to a table of roasted duck, red cabbage, and potato dumplings when a scream vibrated from the kitchen.
A goose had gotten loose in the house, flapping down the hall, honking frantically.
It knocked over our Christmas tree. Furious, Father tackled it. As he wrestled the animal, Mother started laughing, and the anger in Father’s face vanished. We called it our Goose Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday memory.
“It was my mother’s.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “I’m sure it will look stunning on your stepmother.”
“I must have it,” the man decides. “How much?”
I toss out a higher number than the shopkeeper offered, but a fair price, too.
“I will have it, along with three more pieces.” He withdraws a purse and passes it to me. It’s heavy. A peek inside tells me he’d been generous.
“Thank you,” I say, even though I feel a tinge of sadness from losing the jewels.
“Perhaps you’d like to join—”
The merchant’s words are interrupted by a scream, followed by wailing. Shivers race down my arms.
“Is there always so much drama in this town?” the man asks, peeking out the window.
I rush outside and find the baker’s daughter, Scarlet, sobbing by a cart. But before I have the chance to ask her what’s wrong, my steps falter and I gasp in horror.
A body is sprawled inside the cart, mangled beyond recognition. Broken legs lie unnaturally twisted. The left side of the face looks as if some monster raked its claws across it. I press my hands over my mouth, trying to hold back the vomit threatening to spew out of me.
A man is trying to console her, saying, “We found your mother in the forest. Brought her back as quickly as we could, but she didn’t survive.”
A crowd forms around the cart. I don’t know Scarlet well, but we used to chat whenever Mother and I came into town for shopping. Murmurs break through the crowd.
“A wolf attack.”
“Out in the woods.”
“Should’ve been in her bakery working,” Madame Ketting says in her typical condescending tone. “Not running about in the woods, that’s what.”
“Who did this?” I clench Scarlet’s arm.
She turns to stare bloodshot eyes at me. “Monsters,” she whispers.
Monsters? Surely, she must be mistaken. I stand numb as Dr. Wissen marches onto the scene.
“Do not fret!” he calls out to the crowd. “I will investigate the situation and send out my men. We’ll find whoever did this and bring justice to our village.”
The crowd calms, and people slowly drift away.
Two men carry off the body while some ladies lead Scarlet away, arms wrapped around her.
My heart clatters against my ribcage. I barely notice Madame Wagner coming to my side, pleading for me to return to my carriage.
Emotions roll through me like a summer storm.
Something is desperately wrong with our village.
First missing people and now this. If only I knew a way to fix it.