Page 19 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“Rough morning, Your Highness?” he called out, tossing the one with a black blade in the air.
Atlas caught it by the hilt, appreciating the way its familiar weight settled in his grip.
“Less talking.” He readied himself in an attack stance, facing off with Caedian. He cut the sword through the air. Once. Twice. “More fighting.”
His captain nodded once and Atlas lunged, stepping into the assault.
Oldrich might be threatening him with the mining camp and marriage, but Atlas had no intention of giving up without a fight.
He would go down swinging if he must.
Seven
“Veros wants you to work?” Zoryana gasped, aghast by the suggestion.
“I know,” Everinne mumbled softly. “My thoughts exactly.”
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her tight leather pants, freshly annoyed at the prospect.
Together they strolled through the rolling cobblestone streets of the market square at the heart of the shopping district.Valadesand other vehicles weren’t allowed down the uneven avenues, the shopping district was for walking patrons only, which made it easier to browse and peruse as one’s leisure. Row after row of quaint little shops were pressed next to one another, the narrow, pastel-hued storefronts showcasing their exceptional wares behind pointed arching windows. Each wooden door was intricately carved, depicting whorls, runes, or some other archaic emblem. Stores owned by witches were always easy to spot—tinkling bells and crystals wrapped with twine hung from every doorknob. The rooftops were all a burnt orange color, many of them boasting curving spires that pierced the sky, and when the early morning or late evening light hit just right, the city was crowned in gold.
The early winter breeze swept through the maze of buildings, and though afternoon sunlight spilled into the square, Everinne still shivered. She knew she should’ve grabbed a coat, but the deep teal sweater she’d chosen was too pretty to cover up. It fell lazily off one shoulder and was cropped at the waist, but she was beginning to regret her decision.
Everinne and Zoryana continued winding their way along the slightly uneven path as vendors with rolling carts and brightly colored awnings offered an array of fashionable goods. There were displays of expertly crafted daggers with jeweled hilts, lustrous fur cloaks for the coming winter, and the finest selection of fire ruby necklaces she’d ever seen. Yesterday, she easily would’ve purchased such superfluous items, spending unseemly amounts of money on dresses that sparkled when she moved or perhaps even a few more bottles of honeyfire. Now, however, she actually had to buy things of worth…likefood.
As though mocking her bitter mood, the mouthwatering scent of whipped lemon cream pastries wafted over to her from one of the stalls.
Her stomach growled, but she ignored it.
“I’ve never worked a day in my life, Zory.” She wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to ward off the goosebumps pebbling across her flesh. “Employment is for…”
Not for someone lesser, exactly. But definitely not for her.
“For everyone else?” Zoryana suggested, pausing to run her fingers along a bolt of vermillion silk, a color that would look decidedly gorgeous against the deep bronze of her skin.
Everinne sighed, shoving her dark waves back from her face. “It sounds awful when you put it that way.”
Zoryana’s berry lips twisted to the side. “Working sounds awful in general.”
She reached into the navy leather satchel slung over her shoulder and handed some notes to the vendor. In return, he putthe entire bolt of silk into a brown paper bag, then passed it to her.
Everinne grinned. “What are you going to do with a whole bolt of fabric?”
“I’m not sure exactly.” Zoryana shrugged, shifting the bag from one hand to the other. “I suppose I’ll have to ask my dressmaker.”
She took one step forward, then stopped suddenly, grabbing Everinne’s arm. “That’s it!”
Everinne glanced over at her, confusion knitting across her brow. “What’s it?”
“Dresses, of course! You could see if Whispering Threads is hiring.” Zoryana linked their arms together and started walking, taking Everinne along with her. “You love their clothing, and I know you already own a dress from almost every collection. Plus, I bet you’d get an amazing discount.”
“Yes.” Everinne laughed, but it sounded hollow to her ears. “And then everything I make would be spent on the latest style.”
“Mm, that would be unfortunate.” Zoryana led her further down the cobblestone walk of the district. The air was slightly tinged by the scent of the sea as they neared the harbor of the Ladova Bay. She snapped her fingers. “Oh, what about that adorable atelier a few streets over? The one with all the magical baubles?”
“Belladonna’s?”
“That’s the one. Everything she creates is unique and one of a kind. Rare.” Zoryana leaned in close, her smile soft as she winked. “Like you.”
