CHAPTER 1
There were many ways I could fail today, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.
In fairness, the train’s delay was not my fault. The faltering engine, or the Capital’s unreliable railway system, bore the blame entirely. Still, had I planned better, I wouldn’t be missing the first stirrings of merchant chatter.
Just yesterday, I’d believed that travelling this far from home would leave me more prepared, more certain. Instead, all I felt was restless.
Somewhere between the last hour and the end of my patience, my leg had begun to jitter against the cushioned seat.
“Can you not?” said the woman beside me, nodding at my leg.
The sound of her voice tugged me from my thoughts; it was the first time she had spoken, and my leg went still.
“Sorry, I’m late for something.”
“Unfortunate, but your fidgeting is giving me a headache.”
Her eyes stayed glued to the book in her lap, her tone threaded with a cool sort of disdain. I swallowed my retort and turned to the window instead.
Outside, Capital dwellers spilled down the escalators onto the crowded platform. Those heading our way scanned the information board, grimacing at what they found. I wondered what Dominik’s face would look like when I finally arrived.
By now, I had entertained several unhelpful thoughts. One of them was that this might be a sign to turn back and concede that my father’s reservations had merit. Reservations about the daughter he had raised in the countryside, travelling eleven hours to the country’s most populated city with next to no experience selling anything beyond books.
But I had seen him work and knew more of leather goods than most in Ehrfurt. And most importantly, turning back wasn’t an option.
“You’re an anxious one, aren’t you?” the woman observed, this time regarding me as though she could see the sweat gathering beneath my chequered coat. “What could you possibly be so late for?”
Only then did I notice my leg bouncing again. Heat gathered beneath my collar under her scrutiny, worsened by how effortlessly composed she looked beside me.
I remembered she’d boarded less than two hours ago, and likely showered shortly before that, judging by the fresh scent of bergamot and the flawless olive skin. Her hair fell in languid waves just above her shoulders; a coal-coloured scarf with an odd sigil remained wrapped around her neck, her fitted jacket uncreased.
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer—”
“Pretty ring,” she interrupted, drawing my hand into her grasp. “Where did you get it?”
I managed to pull my hand free, yet she continued to stare. The ring was not expensive, only sentimental, but there was something off-putting about her gaze.
“It’s a family heirloom,” I answered, flustered. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”
A hum. A nod.
“Where are you getting off again?” she asked, curiosity lacing her tone.
“Bickerton Cross.”
“Right,” she offered dryly, crossing her legs and returning to her book, “Your misery should end soon, then.”
Her interest seemed to stall there, to my relief, and I quickly glanced at her jacket before turning away.
The piece of clothing reminded me of the craftsman expected this morning—one of my father’s regular traders, who would deliver a sample of this season’s leather goods to my stall. Mostly belts and bags. A trade that should have begun fifteen minutes ago.
After what felt like an eternity, the engine roared to life. The train lurched forward, and I wasted no time weaving through the narrow aisle to where my luggage was stowed.
The travel board signalled that we were approaching the next stop, a shrill noise drowning out the conductor’s voice.
This was supposed to be one of the main stations in the Capital. Father had warned me it would not be easy to navigate the first time, though busy enough that I could probably find someone to help. He knew the station like the back of his hand after years of travelling here and had rambled over the smallest details to make sure I’d find my way.
Worry always made him talk more.
