“Don’t you have people to do your shopping for you?” Benton spat. “Why must we be tormented by your presence?”
My cheeks dimpled; he hated her just as much as I did. And with no guards in sight, my friend wasn’t about to shy away from a bit of conflict.
“Unfortunately, your husband is otherwise occupied,” Maris jeered.
She might be from the same neighborhood as Benton and me, but she outranked us in wealth and status. Her home sat on the nearby hilltop, looking down from its pitched roof as it and the people within judged all of us below. Anyone with so much land and the means to employ a full staff, had much more than I did, even at the height of my family’s affluence.
“Orion might make your clothes, but he certainly does not do your bidding,” Benton countered.
He’d always been a little insecure about working in the service industry and was fiercely protective of his husband. She was lucky he was too kind to raise a hand or a sword to a woman, because her implications were worthy of a fight. Considering the income Orion earned from Maris’s family alone, he likely wouldn’t risk such an altercation.
The pale woman eyed the cart and placed a handful of green beans, five potatoes, and two tomatoes into her bag. She laid down a pile of coins on the narrow shelf of my cart and began walking away. There was too much money abandoned for the items she’d selected, but it was trivial compared to the amount of wealth her family amassed.
“You’ve overpaid.” I raised my voice in Maris’s direction. “Take your change!” I left several coins on the shelf.
She paused and slowly turned to me. “I know you and your crippled father need the charity. Keep it.”
Her words cut like a dagger, penetrating into a tender piece of my flesh. My body tensed, fingers piercing into the skin of the tomato I’d been holding. The juice dripped through the webs of my hand, mimicking my blood oozing out from its skin.
Jezelle, who was still standing nearby, shouted an insult right as I chucked the tomato at the back of Maris’s head. Only it didn’t land against the back of her head. She turned to respond at the exact moment the fruit hit its mark, smashing into her hairline and staining her golden locks crimson.
The red innards of the fruit dripped down her freckled face and onto the front of her pale blue dress. She stood in disbelief, chest heaving from the attack. Deliberately, she mopped the contents from her skin and flung them onto the floor.
“I didn’t need your help!” I yelled at Jezelle. The back of someone’s head was less personal than their face, and I didn’t need to initiate a war with the Faldor family.
“Did you have to ruin the dress too?” Benton joked under his breath, “Orion probably spent hours making it.”
“Tell him I said you’re welcome,” I retorted, accepting my demise. “Whatever I can do to help business stay steady.”
The entire market had come to a halt, watching the scene play out in the middle of the square. We’d always pitched passive-aggressive remarks at one another, but never escalated to physical assault. My family’s name already had enough attention.
My eyes shot to the stalled crowd, and I realized they weren’t at all occupied with my escapades, but were focused on the four guards standing at the perimeter of the square. Preparing for a fight, my body tensed—the uniforms had become an enemy flag.
“What are they doing here?” A male voice in the crowd muttered behind me.
“I hear they’re searching for a new batch of ladies for PrinceSutton. Apparently, he still hasn’t found anyone worthy enough to marry,” a female voice mocked.
“Or maybe he just enjoys testing out as many women as possible,” the male quipped. “Can’t blame him for that.”
The guards divided into pairs and moved through the crowd, stopping only to speak with the women.
“You’d think he’d at least try to find his own wife. How can he put so much trust in his goons to make that decision for him?” I wondered aloud, “What if the women they choose aren’t even his type?”
“Why leave the castle when you can have someone do it for you?” the male remarked. “It’s like having breakfast in bed—why go to any effort when you could have someone serve it to you while you’re warm under the blankets? Besides, all pussy is nearly the same anyhow.”
“Scoundrel!” Jezelle spat at the old man.
The guards made their way through the market, passing out squares of aquamarine blue paper to several women. Recipients grinned the moment the parchment was in their hands.
“I heard the prince doesn’t even have magic,” Benton said. “Maybe that’s why he can’t find anyone to marry.”
I smacked Benton on his shoulder. “You’re such a gossip! As if a Royal wouldn’t have magic!”
Gathering the remaining produce in my cart, I began condensing the items down to a single crate. I’d planned to drop off the leftovers in the neediest area of town on my way home. Nothing ever went to waste there, even if an item had a blemish.
“It’s true,” the woman urged. “Nobody’s ever seen him use magic.”
“He’d be waving it around for all to see if he had it,” Benton remarked. “Whether or not we wanted to see it, he’d throw it in our faces, just to prove the ban doesn’t apply to him.”
