chapter 4
1717 Words
The nerve of him.
Silvia walked through the market with her purchases tucked beneath one arm and annoyance crackling inside her chest.
Saving her from a horse? Fine. She could admit that part was reasonable.
But dragging her out of danger only to immediately speak to her like she had personally offended him by nearly dying?
Are you always this reckless? But a prince was arguing with a nobody. Who is reckless then?
Crazy i***t.
She turned another corner, letting the noise of the market swallow some of her annoyance. Merchants shouted over one another, and the smell of fresh bread followed her which made her stomach regret not having breakfast. She ignored it mostly because she had already spent too much money.
Then she felt it. Eyes. Not casual glances following her as she turned. Silvia kept her pace steady, but she was fully alert. Two sets of footsteps followed several paces behind her.
“Amateurs,” she thought.
Ahead, a little side alley between two buildings, quiet and mostly empty.
Perfect.
Without hesitation, Silvia turned towards it. She walked several steps in before slipping behind the corner wall, flattening herself against the stone.
Waiting patiently.
The footsteps followed. A young man and woman appeared at the entrance. The young man was tall and slightly lanky, messy dark curls falling into warm brown eyes. Beside him stood a girl in a simple sage-green dress, her dark hair pinned neatly back and her calm gray eyes scanning the alley carefully both slowing when they realized it was empty. Confused.
“Where did she-”
Silvia grabbed the nearest object beside her, an abandoned broom, stepped out suddenly, and pointed it at them.
“Why are you following me?”
Both of them jumped. The young man nearly lost his balance entirely. The woman caught his sleeve, but her own eyes were wide with shock.
For one long moment, all three stared at each other. Then the woman blinked slowly.
“Mary,” she said carefully. “ What are you doing? We are your friends.”
Friends. Silvia’s grip tightened slightly around the broom.That word landed strangely in her chest.
Mary had friends?
Silvia lowered the broom slowly trying to avoid suspicion.
“I knew that,” she said smoothly. “I was testing you.”
The young man frowned.
“With a broom?”
“It was nearby.”
He looked unconvinced. The woman, simply sighed like someone long accustomed to strange situations.
“Of course,” she replied.
Silvia became painfully aware that she had just threatened Mary’s friends with cleaning equipment.
Wonderful.
The young man cleared his throat first.
“Well,” he said carefully, eyeing the broom, “now that the testing portion of the afternoon is complete. Can we leave?”
Silvia winced internally. I am never emotionally recovering from this. She quickly shoved the broom back where she found it.
“Yes. Right. Lead the way.”the woman said.
Together, the three of them stepped back into the crowded street.
His name was Ben, and he spoke as though silence personally offended him. Within minutes, Silvia had learned his opinions regarding market bread, dishonest fabric merchants, poor saddle maintenance, and a deeply unnecessary story involving his uncle’s goat and a bishop’s garden wall.
She liked him immediately which honestly felt suspicious. Silvia usually disliked loud people within minutes.
The woman’s name was Eleanor. She was more quiet than Benedict, but observant in the dangerous way. The sort of person who noticed everything and spoke only after deciding whether it was worth mentioning.
They walked beside Silvia easily, naturally, as though this had always been their place beside her
.And strangely enough. It fit.
Most of the villagers who passed stared and whispered.
“Why are they looking at you Mary?” Ben asked
“I fought with the prince.” she said, annoyance and guilt both still sitting on her face.”
Their eyes widened as they both looked at each other.
“You fought with the prince?” the boy asked.
“I will tell you later. First let's find a place to eat.”
“There,” Eleanor said, nodding ahead.
A small tea house rested at the corner of the street, warm light glowing behind its windows. Inside smelled of baked pastries, tea leaves, and old wood soaked through with years of conversation.
They settled near the window while a serving girl brought tea and cakes.
Silvia wrapped both hands around the cup the moment it arrived.
Warm.
Comforting.
Dangerously comforting.
“You seem different today,” Eleanor observed quietly.
Silvia looked up over the rim of her cup.
“Different?”
“A little lighter, perhaps.” Eleanor studied her carefully. “But also unlike yourself somehow.”
Benedict looked between them.
“She seems the same to me.”
Both women turned toward him and then looked at each other smiling.
He blinked once.
“What? So about the prince?” he said changing the subject. Silvia explained everything. They were stunned for some reason Silvia couldn't say.
The tea house door opened almost immediately. Three young women entered together.
The one in front carried herself with the confidence of someone entirely convinced the world existed for her convenience. Pale silk dress. Perfect posture. A smile sharp enough to draw blood.
Her gaze landed on Silvia immediately.
“Mary,” the woman greeted smoothly as she approached their table. “I heard you had been unwell.”
Silvia smiled politely.
“How kind of you to worry.”
The woman continued as though she had not spoken.
“Though I must say, you still look rather dreadful.”
Ah. There it was.
The smile. The tone. The carefully polished insult wrapped inside fake concern.
Silvia knew this kind of woman instantly.
A bully.
And judging from the way Eleanor suddenly went still beside her, this clearly was not new. The old Mary probably would have sat there quietly and taken it.
Silvia absolutely would not. She set her teacup down carefully.
“And yet,” she replied pleasantly, “still somehow less dreadful than your personality. Curious.”
Silence. Ben slowly lowered the cake halfway to his mouth.
The woman stared. One of her companions choked on absolutely nothing.
“You grow bold,” the woman said after a pause.
“And you grow tedious,” Silvia returned sweetly. “Yet here we both remain.”
The woman’s smile tightened. Silvia leaned back slightly.
“Was there something else you wanted, or did you simply come over to brighten everyone’s afternoon?”
Another silence. Eleanor suddenly looked very interested in not smiling. The woman straightened carefully.
“Enjoy your tea, Mary.”
“Oh, I fully intend to.”
The woman turned sharply and swept from the tea house with her companions following quickly behind her.
The door shut. Ben stared at Silvia. Eleanor stared harder.
“What?” Silvia asked.
“That,” Eleanor said slowly, “is the most I have ever heard you say to Lady Beatrice.”
“Beatrice,” Silvia repeated. “Right.”
Ben finally recovered enough to speak.
“That was magnificent.”
“I know. Let's eat.” Silvia said.
The rest of the afternoon passed easier than Silvia expected. They wandered back through the market together while the sunlight slowly turned gold across the cobblestones.
Ben spent nearly fifteen minutes debating between two badly carved wooden birds as though the fate of the kingdom depended upon it. Eleanor argued with a fabric merchant so skillfully the poor man looked relieved to lose the negotiation.
And Silvia,
Silvia laughed.
Real laughter. For a little while, she forgot herself entirely. Forgot the strange world. Forgot the prince. Forgot the fact that none of this should have belonged to her.
By evening, the streets had begun to quiet.
The three of them walked side by side toward home while Ben continued telling increasingly dramatic stories and Eleanor stopped him when he exaggerated.
Silvia walked between them quietly.
Nobody has ever walked me home before.
The thought hit harder than expected.
They stopped outside the house gates. Ben bowed with exaggerated elegance.
“Until tomorrow,” he declared. “And please, threaten no more innocent citizens with cleaning tools.”
“I told you that was a test.”
“Yes,” he said solemnly. “A terrifying one.”
Eleanor stepped forward before Silvia could speak again and wrapped her arms around her tightly.
Silvia froze in surprise.
Eleanor held her a moment longer before pulling back just enough to murmur softly:
“I am glad to see you smiling again, Mary. It has been far too long.”
Something tightened painfully in Silvia’s chest.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Eleanor studied her face for one brief moment, then stepped away and followed Bendown the road. Silvia watched until both disappeared around the corner. Then she turned toward the house.
The manor was quiet when she entered. She slipped upstairs carefully, avoiding the loose stair she had discovered earlier, and reached her room unnoticed.
The fire still burned low in the hearth.
Silvia changed slowly, lay back against the mattress and stared at the stone ceiling overhead.
Who were you, Mary?
Not unloved. That much was obvious now.
Mary had parents who watched her carefully. Friends who followed her through crowded markets simply to make certain she was well. People who noticed when she stopped smiling.
And someone-
Someone had hurt her badly enough to steal that smile away.
Lady Beatrice’s face returned briefly to mind. That particular cruelty had not been new. It had been practiced.
Silvia knew the difference.
Her thoughts drifted back to Eleanor’s words.
I am glad to see you smiling again.
Silvia swallowed hard.
She had never truly had friends before. Not the sort who noticed or stayed. She had once tried to make friends with three girls in her class. She always laughed a little too late at their jokes. When they graduated, nobody called.
Then another memory surfaced.
“Before we found you.”
Silvia’s eyes narrowed slowly.
Found her
She sat up slightly.
“Where did they find you, Mary? What happened to you?” she whispered into the darkness.
- Writer
