Unspoken

Avina POV When the sun was in the sky at noon it baked the market below. The smell of sweat, goods and the morning catch filled the air. Spices creating a cloud that loomed over head, the market bustled with people. I always wondered how many people could fit into the small market square at one time. I only came to pick up ingredients for dinner and found myself getting lost in the booths full of beautifully crafted silks, scarves, and other colorful items much to rich for me. The Great Road brought color into the city and kept the economy flowing and the kingdom thriving. Uncle Barot would be wondering where I was. He had looked after me since I was small and to young to remember. I know little to nothing of my parents other than they were loyal servants to the King and were beloved by those who knew them. They died in an accident on The Great Road coming back from a trip. Bandits had attached their caravan and left many dead. I didn't miss them for I was only 2 at the time of their death. However, I missed the idea of them, the idea of family and belonging. Uncle Barot was the brother of my father and is a scribe in the Kings palace. We lived within the city in a small dwelling near the wall. I finished gathering ingredients in my basket, paid my due and headed home. When I reached the dwelling I stepped inside and removed my veil. My long curly brown hair was neatly tied back under my veil. One or two curls always slipped through. I never considered myself much of a beauty. My friend Narene always said otherwise. She would always tease and comment on the men around watching as we went by or gawking at the Market. We both were now of acceptable marrying age and were to be prepared for marriage. I had a small waist and small frame but had a natural curve at the hips and ample bosom. Green eyes and fair skin were unique and often mistaken as foreign in our kingdom. But I was born here. At 5'5 I was average in height maybe even a little short. I was strong from working in fields as a child and teen and chores kept me thin. Uncle Barot went back to work as a scribe after many years away and I no longer helped in the fields. But the calluses and scars on my hands and back were telling of hardwork. "Hello Avi!" Uncle Barot bellowed as he walked through the door. I love to hear him echo through the house. his wise voice was distinct and kind. "How was your day Uncle? Supper will be ready shortly." " Tiresome" he echoed. " Politicians have to much to say and not enough to do" he chuckled.