“Or the guards,” I sneered, “though some don’t need to usetheir magic to be assholes when they can already do so on their own.”
“Maybe he’s looking for his mate,” Maris swooned, stepping closer, seemingly forgetting that I struck her with a tomato. “It’s romantic, if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you,” Benton quipped.
“He probably wants to steal her magic,” the old man grumbled.
I rolled my eyes and focused on the task in front of me. I had little interest in hearing the rumors. There were more important things to do than ponder the trivial burdens of a royal. The group behind me quieted, and I turned to see a pair of guards standing in front of us. In front of me.
“We’re formally inviting all eligible females to the ball at the end of the week. It is in honor of Prince Sutton,” the male guard announced. “Every female who has not attended in the past is ordered to be present.”
“Ordered?” I raised an eyebrow. “By whom?”
He narrowed his brown eyes and scowled.
“I’ve yet to attend!” Maris stepped forward, carefully pressing her dress with her hands. The tomato juice had soaked into the bust, and I would have felt bad if I hadn't suffered through years of her ruthless teasing in school.
“You haven’t attended previously?” the guard inquired.
Maris shook her head and provided her name, urging them to check the records. I fidgeted with my cart, uninterested in the interaction.
“Thank you,” Maris said cheerfully, taking the paper from the guard and tucking it into her satchel.
I chuckled at her excitement. She was acting like a schoolgirl receiving a social invite from a boy, likely something she’d experienced plenty of times throughout her life.
“Maybe you’d be less of an insufferable bitch if you spentyour time trying to find a husband instead of sleeping with all the men in our neighborhood,” Maris admonished.
I smirked. “Now that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, would it?” The woman’s mouth gaped open like a fish on the bank of a river. “Besides, I’d hate to wilt up like a flower without water.” I paused. “Are you thirsty, Maris?” My mouth grew into a wide smile the moment my words struck true.
“You might as well stay home,” she grunted. “He’d never choose someone like you anyway.”
I gave her a flat look before she turned and stomped away, her long dress swaying dramatically with her hips. I rolled my eyes before returning my attention to the guards. They might’ve duped other females into attending, but I wouldn’t be one of them.
“You … you will attend,” the male guard stammered. “The King requires all females in Rivale to attend.” He ran his eyes up and down my body, taking in my tan working clothes. “You appear single, are you not?”
Benton stifled a cough. He and his husband had told me many times that if I were going to find a spouse, I’d need to dress like I was looking for one. But dyed fabric was reserved for those with a surplus of funds and nothing better to do. It didn’t matter that Orion offered his services to me at no cost, I still couldn’t afford the material. Plus, there was no need—I wasn't looking for a partner.
“I am single, but I’m not attending,” I remarked. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling foolishly insecure. My job required me to prioritize functionality over fashion.
The guard held my stare. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing he could do to make me accept the little blue paper being gripped in his meaty hands.
“Yo—you must be there,” the guard said, lowering his voice, expression softening as he scanned those around me.
I realized he’d likely never experienced such a rejection before. Most women were probably desperate to see the inside of the castle and the prince hidden within. Would he get in trouble?
I pressed my lips together. “Your prince can ask me himself if he wants me to attend so badly.”
Not waiting for his response, I turned my back to the guards and finished stacking my crates.
Several minutes passed before Benton notified me that the guards had moved on. He drew in a deep breath, and I braced myself for what was sure to be a lecture.
“You know,” Benton drawled, “if you married the prince, you’d be set for life. You’d never have to sell another piece of fruit again. The guards would handyouthe apples rather than ruin them.”
“I enjoy tending to my garden,” I lied. It wasn't that I hated it; I just preferred to work with the land on my own terms. Frequently, I found myself longing to return to the eastern region. I daydreamed about creating jewelry under Master Torin's guidance again. It felt like it was a lifetime ago. “And who would help you with your wheat if I weren’t around?”
Benton waved a dismissive hand. “You could have a garden within the gates and do it for fun instead of out of necessity. You’d have someone you could count on rather than others counting on you.”
“I’ve yet to find a single person to depend on in my entire twenty-four years. And I don’t expect that to change anytime soon. I grabbed a carrot and lightly dusted the dirt from the base. “Besides, I’d rather die than marry a Sutton—royal or not.”
