Page 6 of Alien Charming

“That’s fine.” She placed her coins on the counter, careful not to let their fingers touch when Mrs. Hendry handed over the bag of cornmeal.

At the butcher’s, Mr. Collins served three customers who had arrived after her before finally acknowledging her presence. “The usual weekly roast?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.

“Yes, please.”

He wrapped the meat in paper, sliding it across the counter. “Tell your aunt the price has gone up.”

She nodded, adding the package to her basket. The same routine repeated at the apothecary, where the herbalist watched her like she might pocket something when his back was turned, and at the milliner’s, where the shopkeeper’s daughter whispered behind her hand to her friend as Elli examined spools of thread.

The women gathered around the fountain in the square gossiping moved aside as she approached, their conversation dying. One mother pulled her curious child closer to her skirts.

“Mama, why does she?—”

“Hush now,” the woman murmured. “Don’t stare.”

The weight of their gazes pressed against her back as she filled her water jug.

“Did you hear there were four Vultor in town yesterday?” one woman whispered, not quietly enough. “Bold as brass they are these days.”

“I don’t trust them. The mayor should just forget this nonsense about trading with those savages.”

Her fingers tightened around the handle of her jug. If only they knew that the voice of one of those “savages” was the kindest sound she’d heard in years. As she walked away from the fountain, the whispers followed her like shadows, impossible to outrun.

When she paused at the greengrocer’s stall, Mr. Bennett gave her his perpetually pitying smile. “Good morning, Elli. Your aunt sent you for the usual, I suppose?”

“Yes, please.” She placed her basket on the counter, avoiding his gaze.

“Let me pick them for you,” he said slowly, enunciating each word as though speaking to a child. “Wouldn’t want you getting confused about which vegetables are which.”

As usual, she bit her tongue. She could identify more plant varieties than anyone in the village, could explain their medicinal properties and growing conditions. But what was the point? They’d made up their minds about her long ago. No one seemed to remember that she’d been an excellent student before her mother died and her aunt took her out of the village school.

“Thank you,” she murmured instead.

Mr. Bennett nodded, pleased with his own generosity. “Your aunt is a saint, you know. Taking care of you all these years.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Not everyone would have the patience.”

“I know.” The words tasted bitter.

“She tells us how you struggle with even the simplest tasks.” He placed the vegetables in her basket, counting them out loudas if she couldn’t do it herself. “One carrot, two carrots, three carrots…”

Her fingers curled into her palm. Aunt Margaret had crafted her prison so perfectly—walls built not of stone but of whispers and falsehoods. The villagers’ perception of her as slow-witted and burdensome was just another chain binding her to her aunt’s house.

“Make sure you go straight home now, Elli,” Mrs. Fletcher called from her fabric shop doorway. “Your poor aunt worries when you dawdle.”

“I will,” she promised, although she longed to flee in the opposite direction, towards the woods where Seren had waited. Where someone had actually listened to her, spoken to her as an equal.

She clutched her basket tighter and started back towards the house, wondering what Seren would think if he saw how these people treated her and if he knew the lies they believed. The weight of the villagers’ stares and whispers felt even heavier than usual today. She kept her eyes down, focused on the cobblestones beneath her feet as she made her way towards the edge of the square.

“Elli? Elli Dawson, is that you?”

The voice was bright and familiar, and she looked up to see Bella Fletcher hurrying towards her, a genuine smile lighting her pretty face. Bella had been another of her friends in school, before Aunt Margaret had decided she was “too simple” to continue her education.

“Hello, Bella.”

“It’s been ages!” Bella reached out and squeezed Elli’s free hand. “I’ve missed seeing you around.”

The simple touch of friendship made her throat tighten unexpectedly. How long had it been since someone had touched her with genuine warmth?

“I’ve been busy with the house and garden,” she said, the practiced excuse slipping out automatically.

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