“The best Ican do is a silver for the whole lot,” the vendor in front of me said sternly. Her voice was rough, like gravel against stone.
“One silver?” I repeated, letting a coarse laugh slip out as the old Brier Len drawl drifted back into my voice. “This cloak’s worth ten times that. If you even knew what you were looking at.”
The vendor’s face soured. “Piss off. I don’t need your business.”
“I think you recognize it,” I said, brushing the fabric between my fingers. “You just hoped I didn’t.”
“Get lost.”
I didn’t. “You see this cloak? Belonged to some highborn lady, stitched by the kind of seamstress who probably only works by candlelight and takes clients with a pedigree.”
The vendor squinted at me but stayed quiet.
“The lady mentioned something, though. Said this cloak was threaded with goldspun.” I let that hang in the air for a second. “You felt the weight when you touched it, didn’t you? Heavy for its size.”
I leaned in slightly. “Now, I didn’t drag this into any back-alley stall.I came to you. It’s not worth much as it is. Foreign cut, noble patterning. Most wouldn’t touch it. But you? You could strip it for the thread, break it down, sell the goldspun piece by piece. That’s a seamster’s trade.”
“I see you’re not shy with your tongue,” the vendor said, her voice dropping as she scrutinized the cloak. “Now, where’d you come by this? I don’t fancy the watch turning up over some missing noblewoman’s wrap. That sort of trouble lands me in chains.”
“No one’s coming for you.”
“Don’t dodge the question.”
I rolled my eyes. “What, you think I got it by accident? I’ve got a pretty face, that’s how. Not all my customers are men.”
“So you’re some high-priced whore from a distant city, here to peddle off fancy goldspun,” she said, eyeing me. “How much do you owe on your contract?”
“If you pay me what it’s worth,” I replied, “it’ll be less.”
She gave me a once-over, then shook her head. “Fine. I’ll give you a gold, but coppers are all I trade in. Isn’t wise to walk these streets with anything else.”
I swallowed my relief and nodded. “It’s a pleasure doing business.”
I stepped out of the vendor’s shop, the pouch of coppers heavy in my hand, along with a new, modest set of clothes. She’d paid me in full, but the words I had said back there kept turning in my mind. Had I shared too much? There were certain things I mentioned that could attract unwanted attention if the wrong person started asking questions.
Still, the fact that she took my cloak reassured me somewhat. Goldspun is a fabric for the wealthy, and to put it simply, it’s gold. Some seamsters know how to strip the fabric and restore it. Considering the size and complexity of my cloak, I was sure she would make a hefty profit. At least three times what she paid me.
Even now, I couldn’t believe it. Standing here, in the middle of Falhurst, it felt unreal. Blending in with the crowd was easy, but Icouldn’t shake the urge to look over my shoulder every few steps. I didn’t want to draw attention, but the aftermath of my escape clung to me. I had no plan anymore. My escape had been the end of it, and now… I was lost. The only place I knew beyond Hyrall was Brier Len, but going back there was never an option.
My mind felt weighed down by the promise of what could be, a sensation far different from what I had expected. But something kept my nerves taut, refusing to settle until I saw it for myself. It was a reckless impulse, a foolish craving, but I retraced my steps toward the carriage station.
If I had to guess, only a chime had passed since my escape and the carriages’ arrival. I drew in a sharp breath as I turned the corner of the building I had recognized earlier. My hands clenched around my new cloak as I peeked around it, pulling my hood lower to shrink into the shadows.
There was only an empty space.
The carriages were gone.
I was free.
A laugh bubbled up before I could stop it, and my hand flew to cover my mouth, muffling the sound. A rush of pure joy surged through me.
I had actually done it.
I had escaped Hyrall’s walls.
I was free.
My smile returned, and the feeling was one I’d never forget. It was both a kind of healing and a breaking. Pieces of me had shattered, only to be remade into something new.
