Restraining himself from scoffing, Dorrimin had walked over to the second counter where a package was already waiting, markedFor Millia.
“We anticipate regular customers,” he explained, hesitating for a moment when he’d found the college boy smiling at him in a strange, almost intoxicated, way.He’d opened the package to check for at least the same number of items as were on the list, and was better able to match some of the scribbles to products now.“Hopefully, Millia won’t get into trouble for any errors,” he’d added crisply, with no idea who Millia was, though his mother probably did.It was important to keep wealthier families happy to retain their business, but Dorrimin didn’t approve of them mistreating their servants.“There should be a Guild for servants,” he’d added, bringing the package back to the main counter.He’d ignored the shock on the topper’s face.“Or a union, like with the city guards and mail carriers.”Since they didn’t produce anything, they weren’t allowed into the Guilds, but their unions were similar in purpose.One needed leverage to negotiate with the Magistrate and all the toppers.“To protect them.In case someone is trying to take advantage of them.”
Then he’d raised his head to look pointedly down his nose.
The college boy had stared at him, astonishment all over his face.
He’d finally shut his mouth, before sweeping a slow, careful look over all of Dorrimin that was visible above the counter.For a terrible moment, Dorrimin had felt like a looming, threatening creature.And then like a foolish one for saying all ofthatto a topper.
Then the boy had cracked a smile, his eyes lighting up.
“Millia is near my mother’s age, which might do it for some, it’s true, but that is more how I regard her.Calm your worrying, you marvelously odd thing.You can ask her about me the next time she’s down here if you like, if you don’t believe me, as you have no reason to.You’re so marvelous,” he said again in a musing tone, as if he wasn’t really speaking to Dorrimin despite staring at him.“Not a best-seller but a one-of-a-kind item that few could afford, but those who could would pay anything.”Then suddenly, he’d been addressing Dorrimin again.“How old are you?You’re not at the college.”
Hit with all of that, as well those eyes fixed on him, Dorrimin had gone hot under the collar he hadn’t put on that day either.
“I didn’t mean insult,” he’d muttered at last.
“No, you definitely did,” the boy answered, still clearly delighted.“But if Ihadbeen trying to flatter and sweet-talk a maid in order to take advantage of them, I would have deserved it.”
That had made everything worse.Dorrimin had scowled through his blushes.“I assumed things,” he’d admitted gruffly.“I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s touching that you think a scion from the mountaintop would need to run errands to take advantage of a servant.”The boy’s tone had been a little patronizing, but Dorriminhadbeen an idiot, so he hadn’t objected.“The sort of person to do that would more than likely simply threaten their employment.Which I would also not do,” he added.“Nor, for all their faults, do I think my parents would allow.Maybe.”
The smile had briefly disappeared as he’d seemed to consider the matter.“No,” he’d finally decided on a sigh.“They have strict rules about it for the store employees and customers, in any event.They want the counter clerks and sales people to be friendly, and customers do love to misinterpret that.Or perhaps, as you might say, to take advantage of the difference in their stations, thinking an emporium clerk has to go along with anything.My mother must have witnessed someone trying that, now that I think about it, because while she is strict about employee conduct, the employees are to report inappropriate behavior immediately so the floor managers can swoop in.That washerpolicy.”
“Oh.”Dorrimin had felt a strange sort of relief based solely upon the word of a stranger, and then a moment of cold horror.“Emporium?”It was strangled, terrified.“You’re aFortune?”
Pretty eyes had gone wide, then shuttered.“Don’t worry.I am not needed there, so I wouldn’t tell them about you even if I had the opportunity to.It’s the state of most second youngest children, I imagine.What would I even tell them?A counter person helped me run an errand for Millia?They’d just wonder why I was doing Millia’s work for her.If they wondered anything.”
“I don’t understand.”Dorrimin had been strangely feverish.In that moment, he’d blamed it on fear but now he wondered; Tommick had grown so quiet.
But then Tommick had rallied to ask about payment, learned his family had a credit account, lingered in the shop to look over bottles and peer at labels, and then finally purchased Luxuriant Hair Soap and Luxuriant Hair Softener in the cucumber scent as a set.
He’d returned the next day for a hand cream—for Millia, he said, and passed on a message from her to Dorrimin’s mother.
He probably did think of Millia as a mother figure.Dorrimin had finally met her a month later and hadn’t known what to make of her smiles, and fussing over his height, and her winking at him when she’d said Tommick’s name.Tommick, who was a good lad, she'd insisted, before raising her eyebrows significantly at Dorrimin.
She must not have mentioned anything to the Fortunes, and though she kept coming in for regular purchases—which she could have had delivered but perhaps enjoyed an excuse to leave the mansion for a while—Tommick became a regular visitor.Tommick could also have had his items delivered, or just purchased them from his own family’s store.Maybe he began to do that, because after a while, he stopped wasting his money on products he very likely didn’t need and stopped in simply to say hello or to keep Dorrimin company as he worked.
There were names for things like that, but whether it was friendship or an attempt at courting, Dorrimin couldn’t say.Mostly because he hadn’t asked.
He didn’t like that; he’d preferred to know what things were.What good were things if they were unknown and unquantified?But if he asked, there was the chance that Tommick would feel awkward around him and the visits would stop.
“Are you brooding?”The question from his mother startled him into taking a step away from the window.“He’s probably gone home.He can see the weather getting worse just as you can.”
Dorrimin didn’t bother to ask who she meant.His mother would arch an eyebrow the way she had when Dorrimin, all of twelve, had begun spending too much time in the bath.
He refused to blush.
“He says we ought to put up decorations for Midwinter, that people spend more money when they see them.He also suggested we do up the windows with items more aimed at gifts or… things to use to get your house or your face ready for parties.”
“Did he?”His mother paused.Her hair was up in a smooth, soft tangle at the top of her head, as was the style for longer hair at the moment.It was consideredromantic.She wore a collar and tie where Dorrimin did not, long skirts instead of pants, and a tie pin of a silver clockface.She had taken off her coat long ago, probably to cook, and she still had on her kitchen apron.“That might be a good idea.Won’t hurt anything to try, at any rate.Although we still need to hire someone soon.Perhaps it’s a good time.”
“Some of the jars and bottles would need to bepretty.”Dorrimin did his best not to sound perplexed or disapproving.He understood the need, he just wasn’t good at that sort of thing, so he’d be no help.
“What a good friend Tommick is,” his mother remarked, eyebrow arched after all, leaving Dorrimin fighting not to squirm.“When the weather clears, you can go buy some nice garland.And I’ll think on perhaps some glass bottles and ribbons in prettier colors.He might be a help there too.Then you two can make an evening of arranging everything.”
“That’s what Tommick said,” Dorrimin replied without thought, and felt a jangle all through his nerves like he’d touched a hot burner in the lab.“He has one more exam before the school break,” he added quickly, frowning so his mother wouldn’t know how unsettled he was.
