Page 20 of A Rose Among Snakes

There was true remorse in the hazel depths staring back at me, and the full weight of what she had done hit me.

“Thank you for saving me. I’m afraid to think what might have happened if you weren’t there.”

“I certainly wasn’t going to leave you there. It was my fault we were even in that position.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can I ask something of you?”

Something in the pink tingeing her cheeks gave me a glimpse of what was in her mind. “You don’t want me to tell your brother?”

She nodded. “He would never let me leave the manor again.”

“Your secrets are safe with me, Kezara,” I said with a chuckle.

She beamed. “Wonderful. Now, let’s get on with our day. We’re here!”

Hereappeared to be a dusty side street of Port Deering, the air buzzing with frenzied patrons, but through the gritty haze I could make out wagons and stalls lining either side of the road. I followed Kezara as she wove between patrons, listening as she excitedly explained where we were.

“Every year in May, the mountain pass is clear enough for merchants to come from Etheniar and Quemina to sell their wares. I’ve bought some of the most beautiful jewelry here in seasons past. Look!” She veered to the right and picked up a necklacemade of a heavy silver chain studded with petite topaz stones. “See?” she breathed. “Stunning.”

I nodded in mute agreement, entranced by the sparkling array of jewelry. The man behind the stall was about my age with fair hair and skin, and eyes as blue as sapphires. He flashed a grin and swept his hand over his creations which ranged from gaudy to understated, showcasing something for everyone. My gaze snagged on a gold ring with a ruby in the center and I raised my hand to the one hiding beneath my dress. Clearing my throat, I stepped back and busied myself with brushing the dust off my skirt. I needed to remember why I was in Port Deering, and it certainly wasn’t to look at pretty baubles.

After purchasing the necklace she’d been admiring, Kezara pranced over to the next stall where a woman with bronze skin was selling woven goods made from dried grass.

“Isn’t this darling, Mihrra?” Kezara asked, picking up a hat with a tight weave and delicately stitched brim. She twisted it in her hands before plopping it atop my head. “Now you don’t have to worry about the sun anymore.”

Before I could object, the woman selling the hat said, “You have excellent taste.”

I looked up to see luminous, amber eyes and two thin, vibrant orange braids cascading from under the same style of hat that sat upon my head. The rest of her fiery hair hung loose behind her shoulders. I had never met someone from Quemina before, but the hair alone left no doubts as to her heritage. She flicked hereyebrows up as she accepted the money from Kezara, a humorous lift to one corner of her lips.

“Thank you for your patronage, ladies,” the woman said, dipping her head.

Kezara waved as we strolled away, but I had a hard time tearing my gaze away from hers. My gut tightened as she held my stare until I ran into Kezara’s back.

Faint giggling pulled my attention ahead and we were met with a pack of well-dressed ladies.

“Is this your new maid, Kezara?” asked the one in the front. Her black hair was fashioned into thick ringlets, the uniformity of the style proving they were not natural like Kezara’s. I didn’t know what about her question was funny, but behind the waving fans of the other ladies came more stifled laughter. The one with black hair eyed me with disdain, a wicked glint in her brown eyes. “Is this all your brother was willing to spend on you, then?”

Heat flamed through me for various reasons. Not only was I insulted, but the insinuation that Velian didn’t care about his sister had to be a blow to Kezara as well. I glanced over at her and my lips parted. Gone was the wildcat that had saved my life in the alley, and in her place stood a wounded rabbit. Her face was blank, which I was already learning was unlike her.

Then I was hit with a memory of the day I saw the same expression on my baby sister’s face.

Three years ago, a group of children were playing out in front of our house, and I encouraged Savine to go play with them. She was hesitant to do anything without Sashir, but he was laid up in bed with afever, so Savine put on a brave face and asked what they were playing.

“We are playing Villagers,” answered a little girl. “I am the mother, she’s my baby, and he’s my dog,” she said, gesturing to each respective child.

“What can I be?” Savine asked.

The girl tapped a finger to her lips in thought before saying, “You can be the orphan that lives on the street. You already know what it’s like since your father died in real life.”

My heartbeat stumbled as I watched Savine’s shoulders stiffen before she spun on her heel and ran back to me. Her blank expression crumbled as tears began streaming down her face. As I wrapped my arms around her, I glared at the vile little girl, who merely lifted an indifferent shoulder and turned back to her friends. I bit my tongue and led my sweet sister back inside the house, holding back all the harsh words I wanted to say in defense of my family.

Kezara’s voice pulled me back to the present, my head clouded with a protective rage brought on by the memory.

“Her wages are none of your concern, Rosida, nor do you have any idea what you are talking about.” The words were confident, but her tone was soft. There she went defending me again. Warmth surged through my limbs and I pasted a polite smile on my mouth.

With a curtsy, I said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I love your dress, such a bold choice.”

Rosida pulled her slim brows together. “What do you mean ‘bold?’”

“Oh, just the ruffles,” I said, keeping my tone friendly as I gestured to her gown. “It’s brave of you to pick a style they stopped wearing in Clavo several seasons ago.”

---