When she reached the center of the city, she called out to several children who were playing nearby and handed them some coins. She asked them to keep an eye on her wagon for a little while. The children happily accepted.

Anne alighted from her wagon and headed for the round plaza.

There, she found a disorderly collection of tents.

The tents were made of cloth varnished with animal tallow, and they had a distinctive greasiness to them. Underneath were rows of all sorts of wares, from foodstuffs to cloth to copper tools. It was a marketplace, bustling with shoppers.

A pungent sweet and sour smell tickled Anne’s nose, drifting over from the tent where one could drink warm grape wine. From autumn through winter, it was a staple of the marketplace.

Anne passed through the crowded plaza, where people kept brushing shoulders, and emerged in an area with little pedestrian traffic.

This block was nearly deserted. There were plenty of shops set up but very few customers.

She looked at a nearby tent and saw several cages made of braided vines suspended from a horizontal bar.

Inside the cages were tiny fairies, each with only a single translucent wing on their back. Five or six of the cages hung in a row. The little fairies sitting inside regarded Anne with vacant eyes.

In an adjacent tent were three fairies covered in dense fur, about the size of puppies. They were bound together with chains linking their collars. Each had one wilted, transparent wing dangling from their back. The furry fairies bared their teeth and growled at Anne.

She was in the fairy marketplace.

Fairy hunters capture fairies in forests and fields and sell them to fairy dealers. The dealers pluck off one of each fairy’s wings, and after determining a suitable price for each piece of merchandise, the captives are then put up for sale in the fairy markets.

For someone headed to the royal capital, going through Redington was out of the way. The reason Anne had stopped by despite the detour was because she knew the town had a reputable fairy market.

Anne approached one of the tents and addressed the fairy dealer.

“Excuse me, do you have any warrior fairies for sale?”

The dealer shook his head. “I haven’t got any, no. Those things are dangerous.”

“Well then, do you know of anyone in this market who does have warrior fairies?”

“Just one place. The old man in that tent by the wall has one, but I wouldn’t recommend it, missy. It’s defective.”

“Is that so? Well, anyway, I’ll go take a look. Thanks.” Anne thanked the man and walked away.

Fairy dealers separate fairies into different categories for sale based on their abilities and appearances.

Most are sold for their labor as “worker fairies.”

Fairies who are especially lovely or rare are sold as “pet fairies” to serve as living ornaments.

Fairies who are particularly violent are used as escorts and bodyguards, so they are sold as “warrior fairies.”

Anne had come to the fairy market in order to purchase a warrior fairy.

After Redington, Anne was going to Lewiston to participate in the Royal Candy Fair.

The road that would take her from the western part of the kingdom, where Knoxberry and Redington were located, all the way to Lewiston was known as the Bloody Highway. It was a dangerous trail surrounded by wilderness, with no towns or villages along the way. Because the soil was poor, there were many bands of robbers driven by hunger, as well as countless wild beasts.

Even Emma had avoided the Bloody Highway on her travels.

There was another route, a safer road to Lewiston that one could follow by detouring to the south.

But that road wouldn’t get Anne to her destination in time for that year’s candy fair.

Anne wanted to make it there, no matter what it took. She knew her reasons were extremely sentimental, but if she didn’t cling to them and continue toward her goal, her legs were liable to buckle beneath her.

I am definitely going to become a Silver Sugar Master this year. I’ve made up my mind.

She looked up with determination.

In order to go down the Bloody Highway, Anne would need a bodyguard.

Unfortunately, she had been unable to find anybody she could trust.

That left a warrior fairy as her only option. Fairies cannot disobey the master who holds their wing. As bodyguards, they are extremely reliable.

Anne’s great wish was to become a Silver Sugar Master that year. In order to do so, she was prepared to bend her conviction not to enslave fairies.

When she got to the area the first dealer had pointed out, she stopped and looked around.

She wasn’t sure which tent had the warrior fairy for sale.

The one to her left held palm-sized fairies in suspended cages. They were likely being sold as worker fairies.

The tent to her right had adorable fairies, about the size of a grain of wheat, inside glass bottles on a table. At that size, there was no way they could be workers, so they were probably pet fairies—sold to children to play with, like toys.

Then at the end of the row, directly in front of her, was a tent that had only one fairy for sale.

The tent had a sheet of leather spread out under it, and the fairy was sitting on top of the sheet with one knee bent. There were chains around his ankles, attached to an iron stake driven into the ground.

The fairy looked like a young man and appeared to be about two heads taller than Anne.

He had on black pants and boots and a loose cloak. The all-black outfit was probably something the fairy dealer had dressed him in to boost his selling price. With his outfit, this fairy stood out from the rest.

He had black eyes and black hair. There was an intense aura about him. His pale skin, which looked like it had never so much as seen sunlight, was characteristic of fairies.

Upon his back was one flexible, translucent wing. It gave the impression of a veil, spread out on the leather mat.

The fairy certainly looked beautiful. There was something undeniably noble about him.

Anne had no doubt that this was a pet fairy. He seemed like he would fetch a high price as an ornament for a rich noblewoman.

The fairy had his eyes cast downward under dark, sleek bangs. The languid afternoon sunlight danced across his eyelashes.

Just looking at him sent a shiver up Anne’s spine.

The word beautiful doesn’t do him justice…

Anne stared at the fairy, drawn in by those long eyelashes. Suddenly, he looked up.

Their eyes met, and the fairy stared directly at Anne.

He frowned for a moment, as if considering something. However, he seemed to quickly figure out whatever it was that had been perplexing him and mumbled, “I thought I knew you from somewhere. You look like a scarecrow.”

He then abruptly averted his gaze from Anne, as if he had lost all interest.

“H…h-how rude… What a thing to say to a girl at the peak of her beauty!”

Anne clenched her fists in response to the fairy’s words.

“Yours doesn’t amount to much,” the fairy said bluntly, still looking away.

“What was that—?!”

The person selling the rude fairy was an elderly fairy dealer. He sat smoking a pipe beside the tent.

When he saw Anne getting angry, the fairy dealer spoke up. He sounded exasperated. “Sorry about him, miss. This one’s got a foul mouth. He says nasty things to anyone who walks by. Please don’t pay him any mind.”

“I do mind! This is probably none of my business, but you’ll never sell a pet fairy with a sharp tongue like that! Maybe you should give up on selling him already and just let him go?!”

“He’s no pet, miss. This here’s a warrior fairy.”

Anne’s eyes went wide. It seemed this was the tent she had been told about, the one with the warrior fairy for sale.

But she couldn’t believe it.

“A warrior fairy?! It can’t be! The way he looks, it would be more appropriate to sell him as a pet. I’ve seen warrior fairies before. They were incredibly large and built like boulders.”

“Well, he’s a warrior, all right, and a fine specimen. Three fairy hunters died catching him.”

Anne crossed her arms, openly suspicious. “The man over there said this fairy was defective. You say he’s a warrior fairy, but maybe you’re just making that up so you can off-load a foulmouthed pet fairy?”

“Reputation is a fairy dealer’s most important asset. We don’t lie.”

Anne looked back at the fairy.

The fairy returned her gaze. He wore a faint smile, as if amused by something.

It was a bold expression to make. He certainly didn’t look like an obedient fairy. He seemed the type to cause trouble, yet he didn’t look strong enough to be useful as a warrior.

“I want to get a warrior fairy, but…you don’t have any others besides him?” Anne asked.

The dealer shook his head. “Not many people deal in warrior fairies. You can only keep one at a time. He’s the only one I have to sell. And I may as well tell you, I’m the sole dealer of warrior fairies in this market. But if you go to Ribonpool, sixty karons north of here, there’s a merchant there who sells warrior fairies.”

“If I detour all the way to Ribonpool, I won’t make it in time for the Royal Candy Fair.” Anne groaned, biting her thumbnail.

“Hey. Scarecrow,” the fairy said abruptly.

Anne scowled at him.

“Scarecrow? I’m a maiden of fifteen, more vibrant than a flower! You can’t possibly be talking about me?!”

“Is there anyone else here? Don’t hesitate. Buy me.”