A long walk, a couple of trolley rides, and making a new friend over a hearty lunch have turned my poor morning into a splendid, if a little cloudy, afternoon. At any rate, I don’t feel the need to sulk over that singing lesson for now.
Maisey; her common-school classmate, Adelaide; Edith; and her bodyguard, Gúnder, walk with Judah and me toward the Redden trolley. It’s the quickest way to the fencing dojo from here, but I’m in no hurry. I enjoy half my companions enough to stroll through the Long Market.
A variety of peoples, from orcs to swiffoks, crowd the sidewalks as they go from store to kiosk to café. There’s little rhythm the shops’ arrangement, and I love the surprises; tents and lean-tos that pop up between established shops are liable to disappear from the alleys by week’s end, struts and all. Canvas awnings decorated as loudly as shouting cart-owners compete to draw passersby to their wares. A constant din of deal-making and news-trading combines with the occasional rhythmic pounding of ironshod horses and raptors. When one of the Long Market’s green-and-orange trolleys clanks along the rail, pedestrians in the street just meander toward a curb. And in this summer heat, the ambient mixture of mustard, tomatoes, and that barest hint of brick clay wafts through my nostrils like that rare drop of chocolate on my tongue.
Judah walks directly behind me on the shop-side of the sidewalk. Intentionally or not, he keeps the masses from getting too close to our group. Maisey keeps pace with me on my left as though I were still the same size we were when we met. On her other side, well…
Nobody enjoys spending time with someone they don’t like, but sacrifices must be made.
I’m sure Edith Foster-Price is a fine girl when she wants to be. But something has always needled me about the way she walks with her head tilted back, just enough to keep the curls of dark hair out of her eyes. Or maybe it’s to keep the snot from pouring out of her nose; she has to maintain her essence, of course. She doesn’t help matters when she speaks, especially to Gúnder.
That poor swiffok. Even though Edith, Maisey, and I all wear our fencing bottoms (suspenders, boots, and all), only Maisey and I carry our own oblong equipment packs; Gúnder follows Edith cradling hers against his chest. He’s not much taller than Maisey, but his physique strains under his tan, padded tunic. He would appear comical, were it not for the wide short sword encased on his hip. The dark tiger’s eye beads in his blonde sideburns are his only hint of anything other than simple business, either by Edith’s family’s allowance or his own.
The conversation lulls, and I realize there’s one voice I haven’t heard since lunch. I look over my shoulder.
Adelaide Shinoda walks between Judah and Gúnder. She’s almost as tall as Judah, but the pale green orc keeps her head tilted down behind a half-curtain of thick, black hair. Instead of the required outfit, Adelaide wears a black blouse, gray trousers, a faded yellow vest, and strapped leather sandals. In fact, the only piece of equipment she carries is her uncle’s epee from the Berkian Secession. The blade and point are dulled, of course, but it’ll be good for her to use something of her own during class, since it’ll be hard enough to find something her size in the communal set.
I smile at her. “I wish I were brave enough to try bangs like yours, Adelaide. They become you.”
An almost inaudible gasp escapes Adelaide. She glances at me, then returns her gaze to the brick sidewalk. She mumbles something, then clears her throat.
“Thank you, Klóe. It’s new. My brother wanted to try something different on me.” She holds the sheathed sword more tightly to her chest.
Maisey whirls around and walks backwards. “Aww, your brother styles your hair for you? That’s fabulous! Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”
She shrugs. “It hadn’t come up, so…” For the first time today, she has a small smile on her lips.
I hum, half for the smile and half out of jealousy. “If only any of my brothers would do that for me. The closest I got was when Angelo offered to halo braid my hair once. He gave up after fifteen minutes.”
Maisey turns to the Young Miss and walks sideways. “Did he do it for a girl?”
I nod once. “Some Linderan half-elf he was trying to impress.”
“How unoriginal.”
I gag. “You cry no news. Anyway, Adelaide, I would love to come over and have your brother style my hair. If it comes out looking half as good as yours, I’d be satisfied.”
Maisey gasps. “Ooh, yeah, me, too. We could make a party of it!”
“Oh!” Adelaide takes in a shuddering breath. “I guess if I ask my parents far enough ahead of time, they may be okay with it. And Darian enjoys meeting new people, so…” She shrugs.
“Excellent!” Without losing a step or tripping over herself, Maisey spins around to face Edith. “What do you say, Edie? Are you in?”
Edith’s square jaw clenches in suppressed laughter. “Thank you for the invitation, Maisey, but I will most definitely pass. I will simply not allow anyone but Hamish to touch this hair.” She twists a lock of hair near her cheek around two fingers.
I turn a wince into a long blink. Maybe Edith doesn’t realize I’m trying to welcome Adealide into the group? With the hope of being right, I try something different.
“My family retains a pair of stylists, too, but I think it would be fun to see what somewhat else could do with what I’ve got. Don’t you want a new style perspective? You know, break the monotony?”
Edith looks askance at me. “I prefer to call your monotony ‘tradition,’ but I can’t fault your reasoning. After all, you and your family love to adopt the new and shocking.” She smirks over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you say, Judah?”
I sneer, nearly snarl, at Edith. Her facetious tone is as bad as four years’ worth of strangers’ dirty looks. Judah’s personhood may be foreign, but he is neither pet nor slave, nor a mere fashion statement. I hold my breath and wait for Edith to turn—
Maisey hops with a clap. “Oh, wait, you said Lindera, right, Klóe? Where Angelo’s old pursuit was from? Isn’t Ach’erti Alderman from that country, too? Wouldn’t it be so weird and neat if they knew each other?”
I exhale and look to Judah. He walks along normally, but his face is locked on Edith. Something about him is strange. The lights of his eyes seem… faster?
He lifts his chin. Even though he sees the entirety of the street around us, he must feel negligent at losing his focus because of such a stupid slight.
I know I do. Thankfully, I have Maisey to keep me focused on the peace.
I relax and smile at her. “Yes. It would. Lindera is quite the large island, though, so the odds are small.”
Maisey clucks her teeth. “Aww, that’s too bad. I bet she was a cutie, though?”
I shrug. “I wouldn’t know. Angelo didn’t bring her to the house even once.”
“Sure, but Linderans are all just so gorgeous, aren’t they? Not just their elf-blooded, either. It must be in the grass there; From the shortest swiffok to the tallest poma, each and all are impeccable.”
“Have you seen them all for yourself?”
“She doesn’t have to,” Edith replies. “We only need look at Ach’erti Alderman to prove her point.” She rolls her tongue in a manner not unlike a flicker cat.
I mumble, “Your sample size is abysmal.”
Maisey giggles. “What if Ach’erti Alderman is one of the ugly ones?”
Edith moans. “Then I’d happily choose a suitor from their rejects. As far as I’m concerned, Rowan Alderman is just the sweetest cream of any crop.”
I try to ignore the insinuation. Adelaide doesn’t know our instructor; how is she supposed to participate in this conversation?
Maisey makes an unusual sound, a groan somewhere between agreement and disapproval. “I suppose, with his platinum blonde hair and those piercing, mismatched eyes and that honeyed, trust-me-I-can-teach-you-anything smile with a pinch of—”
“Cull your list, Dazey-Maisey,” Edith mutters.
“—then, sure, I could find him as attractive as the next girl would. But he’s already so old. I’d rather have someone who’ll stick around at least half as long as I do.”
Edith gives a throaty chuckle. “He’ll stay young enough for me, no doubt. Speaking of the next girl, what do you think, Klóe? You’ve stayed remarkably mum about the hottest instructor in Atlantia.”
I shrug. “He’s fine enough, I suppose.”
The Long Market’s ambient noise creeps through the lull in our conversation. Edith’s cackle breaks the peace.
“Ha! ‘Fine enough, I suppose?’ Klóe, are you broken?”
I wrinkle nose. “How do you even mean?” I ask, as if who I don’t find alluring makes any impact on her wellbeing.
“You’re trying to tell me you’ve either met a more attractive creature than our dear fencing instructor, or you don’t think he’s attractive from the start. Neither option flatters you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll be sure to adjust appropriately in the future.”
“Edie, different girls like different types. There’s a first for all things, even girls disinterested Ach’erti Alderman.”
Edith narrows her eyes at me. “Not in my experience, Maisey.”
Even with Maisey between us, I adjust my path to walk a little farther from Edith. I don’t know what she’s searching me for, but she won’t find it.
Behind me, Judah stammers. “Y… Klóe?”
I stop and turn to him, but he faces the stores. I follow his gaze to Adelaide, standing at a storefront window. I raise an eyebrow and approach her, Judah in tow.
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