The tool merchant—a burly woman with callused hands—eyed Wren's remaining trade goods with approval."Those mussels?Haven't seen those in years.Ooh, you have oysters, too!I’m a sucker for shellfish; I used to live by the sea.But tell you what...”She lowered her voice and looked around.“I’ve heard you have some mighty fancy silk underwear.If you have some to spare, I'll trade you straight across for tools and a cart."
Wren smiled.“They’re popular, all right.Tell you what, why don’t I bring you some from my next batch?I can stop here before going to the seamstress.The seafood can be a down payment.”
“Deal!”She set Wren up with a small garden rake, a trowel, and a hand fork."You'll want a garden cart too.I've got a good one out back."The cart was wooden with iron-reinforced wheels, perfectly sized for one person to manage.
"So you're the one working the cursed farm," the woman said as she loaded the cart."Making things grow."
"Yes."
"Good for you.That land's been empty too long."She secured the last strap."Don't let the gossip bother you.The town always needs something to talk about."
Wren felt her face heat.So the Viktor incident was already spreading."Thank you," she managed.“I’ll be back in a few days to settle up.”
The woman smiled and gave her a cheerful wave.“Can’t wait!”
At a small shop selling personal goods, she found a proper hand mirror, hair pins, and combs.The shopkeeper was a young woman about her age who smiled brightly.
"New in town?I'm Sara."
"Wren."
"Oh!You're the plant magic girl!"Sara's enthusiasm was genuine, not gossip-hungry."My sister works at Madame Lin's.She says your silk is incredible!"
"Thank you."
"And don't worry about the scene earlier."Sara lowered her voice conspiratorially."Lyra's been impossible lately.Everyone knows Viktor was going to end things eventually.She's just...dramatic about everything."
"I really wasn't trying to—"
"Of course you weren't!You just exist and have land and magic.That's not your fault."Sara rang up her purchases."Besides, half the unmarried women in town are jealous.Viktor Andersen is quite the catch."
Wren wasn't sure what to say to that.
"Although," Sara continued, "if you ask me, the Marshall is more interesting.Strong, silent type.Very handsome in that serious way."She grinned."But I suppose he's all business."
"He's been very helpful," Wren said carefully.
"I bet."Sara winked."Come back anytime.I like you."
Last stop: the cheese merchant.The selection was impressive—hard cheeses that would keep, soft fresh cheese, aged varieties.Wren bought a wedge of sharp cheddar and something called mountain cheese that the merchant promised would last for weeks.
"You're the girl at the cursed farm, yes?"The cheese merchant was a middle-aged woman with a practical air."My husband runs the dairy.If you ever need milk or cream beyond what you can produce, come find us.We're always looking for reliable customers."
"Thank you.I actually grow milk, but—"
"You grow milk?"The woman blinked."How does that work?"
"Milkweed plant.It produces bottles of milk."
"Well."The woman processed this."That's...efficient.Still, if you ever need a variety like buttermilk, cream or yogurt, we're here."
“I could use some yogurt, thank you...and maybe some of that garlic cream cheese.”
By the time Wren had loaded everything into her new garden cart and secured it to her horse, she felt steadier.People had been kind.Friendly, even.Some had mentioned the Viktor incident, but no one had been cruel about it.
The town wasn't her enemy.Lyra might be, but time would tell.It was too early to tell about Viktor; it depended on his actual intentions.
She led her horse back toward the gate, pulling the loaded cart behind.The craftsman had promised to deliver the wash drum this afternoon, so that was handled.It had been a productive morning, despite the drama.
