“Different… in a good way?” She tried to lead him along.
“I think so. It is a shame your brother will not arrive before this festival is over. I do think he would enjoy seeing the collection of so many cultural notes.”
Vi folded her hands before her thoughtfully. She’d never thought of what her brother would think of the market—of anything in the North, really. It had always been such an impossibility for him to be present that she never even considered what he’d enjoy about the life she’d lived.
“Does my brother enjoy learning of different cultures?” Vi knew the answer already, but she was curious what Andru would say. How closely had he positioned himself to the royal family?
“Oh, incredibly so. He practically bounces off the wall when a new batch of texts arrives from the library in Norin, Hastan, or sent from you. Especially if it’s sent from you.” As Andru spoke, he looked nowhere in particular, eyes darting from stall to stall. His words were fond, but his eyes were distant.
Did he care for her family or not?Vi couldn’t put her finger on the answer.
“Do you spend—”
“Oh, look at that,” Andru interrupted her. More like, hadn’t even realized she’d started speaking. “Nowthatis something Prince Romulin would find fascinating.”
Andru wandered off toward a leatherworker’s wares. Vi started in his direction but was stopped by a hand on her sleeve.
“There’s a Western spice seller.” Ellene pointed in the opposite direction. Vi looked between the two locations. “Unless you’d rather go with him?”
She was curious what Andru thought her brother would find so fascinating. There was an uneasy feeling about the notion that Andru might know things about Romulin she didn’t, merely by virtue of his usual proximity to her brother. That fact soured her stomach.
“No, no… he’ll be fine on his own for a moment. Besides, I want to get Uncle Jax something.”
“I thought you might.” Ellene hooked her arm with Vi’s leading her toward the stall.
A woman sat in a folding chair, surrounded by baskets that Vi recognized as Northern make, but filled with the bright colors and smells of the West. There was a pile of what looked like sand, next to small hard black nuts. Vi didn’t know what half of it was for, but she did know that Jax loved almost all of it; whenever he prepared food with these spices, it had the most magical taste.
“Hello, young princesses.”
“I’m not a princess,” Ellene insisted. “I’m a future Chieftain.”
“Good day.” Vi gave a small nod of acknowledgment, ignoring how, exactly, the woman had identified her as a princess. She wasn’t wearing any sort of circlet or other royal regalia, though perhaps proximity to Ellene was enough. “May I have a scoop of this one?” Vi pointed to what appeared to be a coarse-ground, reddish spice blend.
“Do you have your own bag, or will you need one?”
“I shall need one.”
The woman took a metal scoop from a small bucket at her side and filled a tightly woven satchel with Vi’s selection. The bag plumped and their nostrils were assaulted with the tangy aroma. She tied it off at the top with a short length of twine.
“How much?” Vi fished out a few coins from the pouch at her side.
“For the Crown Princess, nothing.” The woman handed her the bag and sat back in her chair, a thin smile on her weathered lips.
Vi continued to ignore the slightly unnerving feeling she was getting from the merchant, focusing instead on extending out a thin silver coin. “I can’t possibly take something without payment.”
“Seeing you is payment enough.” The woman’s beady black eyes looked her over from top to toes. Vi’s arm went slack. “I heard the stories, but had to see it with my own two eyes. You really do look just like her, our dear, late princess Fiera.”
“My grandmother?”
The woman nodded. “You have her hair, her voice, her blood, and her fire, too, from what I hear.”
Vi bit back a correction. One of the reasons she needed to learn the magic of light from Sehra and Taavin was to keep that illusion alive—that she was a Firebearer like her predecessors. It gained her far too much favor in the West to allow the perception to slip.
Still holding out the coin, Vi tightened her elbow and extended it further. “Truly, I insist.”
“Very well. I shall consider it a boon from our princess returned.” The woman leaned forward and took the coin from between her fingers. “Do you have her tastes as well? Do you like Western spices?”
“I enjoy cuisine from all across the Empire.” Romulin would be proud of that response, Vi decided. She’d have to tell him about it in her next letter—but no, there would not be a next letter. She would merely tell him in person. An odd rush overtook her.
