Page 46 of The Shadow of Breninsol
She couldn’t search for what she was looking for and listen to the idle gossip, so she excluded the voices around her and focused on occasionally rubbing her hand over her thigh. Eleanor lingered on the edges of the first jewellery stall and suppressed a groan. This was going to be harder than she’d thought.
The tables displayed rows and rows of decorative accessories: necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings, brooches, hair combs, and other items she couldn’t guess at. Assorted coloured metals, beads, and gemstones that twinkled in the morning light. There were miniatures of beings that existed in nature, and apparently meaningless patterns and shapes, and that was precisely Eleanor’s problem. The symbol from Linnet’s necklace would be a seemingly random shape.
Eleanor moved to the next jeweller’s stall, and now she really wanted to groan. She’d planned to focus on necklaces. Now she realised she needed to search for the symbol on Linnet’s necklace and any others that had once been familiar. Each stall had a unique display, but resembled entering a new shop. Each seller showcased their jewels individually, to highlight their best jewels for their potential customers. To attract passersby, thesellers strategically placed gems and mirrors at the right height to catch the sunlight.
She rubbed her temples to ease the dull ache. This was going to be a long morning.
The longer Eleanor failed to see the symbols from the magical Line of Air, the more unavoidable a visit to the Flea was. She begrudgingly admitted that she had time to visit that market before she had to return to The Ladies Grace. Eleanor had searched stall upon stall for the same Air symbol. A few stallholders had crossed her path, running to catch a few items they’d failed to secure with the cold breeze that hadn’t relented.
As the afternoon progressed, she became increasingly desperate, searching for any sign that the necklace was one of many, or suggesting it was a new trend from the marquis. Eleanor almost wanted to be proved wrong that it was not an Air symbol, but a small part of her stirred. It barely surfaced, but it was a faint glimmer.
“Hello.”
Shit.
Eleanor knew this was inevitable for a stallholder to talk to her. So far, she’d searched the stalls and slipped away before gathering any attention, while the traders had focused on other potential patrons, those whose outfits were brighter and weren’t frayed. That wasn’t the case at this stall.
“Don’t think it wasn’t noticed you’ve been going stall to stall,” the jeweller said.
Shit.Shit.
Of course, it had been obvious Eleanor had been looking at every stall, however, she thought she could search most of the row before anyone noticed her. But she’d underestimated how fast word travelled in the Cloth.
Eleanor chanced a look at the jeweller. She was pretty, with dark cropped hair which showed off the many piercings that lined her ears. Eleanor would have tensed at the woman’s words, but her tone sounded amused. Despite wanting to deny it, Eleanor considering her actions and it screamed of a falsehood.
Eleanor gave a small smile, hoping it looked nervous as she replied, “That obvious?”
“Makes these guys nervous,” the trader said, nodding her head towards the guard at her stall.
He was tall, like her, but he had his arms folded to make himself look intimidating. He looked like he knew how to handle himself, fast and agile; perfect for catching thieves in a marketplace.
Eleanor suppressed her surprise at realising that they might be twins. They both had the same fair complexion, dark cropped hair, lithe build, and the same straight shape nose and full lips. Even their expressions matched in seriousness with a tinkle of interest in their chocolate rich eyes.
“Rafe is my brother,” the woman confirmed, as she emerged from behind the stall and gave a little pat on Rafe’s shoulder. “And I’m Rennell. The Gem House is our family’s business, always has been. We’re the best in the kingdom. If you can’t find what you’re looking for here, I’m sure we’ve got something to your taste back at the shop,” Rennell said with a friendly smile.
Eleanor tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as the breeze picked up and noticed that the jewellery pieces at thisstall looked more practical. Many of the stalls had pieces of jewellery displayed in locked cages, presumably bolted to the table, but this one didn’t. Rennell and Rafe’s jewellery were decorative, some inlaid with gemstones, but they looked sturdy. They had a soft, subtle, whimsical style that didn’t compromise practicality. The shawl and cloak brooches seemed exceptionally durable, their pins looking unlikely to break or bend with repeated use.
“We have earrings or, if you’d prefer, a hair slide.” Rennell said, flourishing a delicate hand at the displays in question, while watching Eleanor’s hair catch on the wind again.
“No, a necklace,” Eleanor replied as she re-tucked her hair behind her ear.
“We have a few here. Is it the stone in particular you’re looking for, or the design?”
Eleanor saw the earnestness in Rennell’s deep brown eyes and decided some ambiguity regarding the necklace wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t think it’s the stone. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, just that I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Ahh, I see, one of those,” Rennell replied with a knowing smile and put her hands in her pockets of her billowy skirt, that suspiciously looked like wide trousers. “Like I said, this is only a small sample of what we have and what we can do. If you don’t find what you’re looking for here, come to our shop on Goldenhill Street.”
Goldenhill Street was a popular, wealthy street. What were they doing here in the Cloth? None of the pieces of jewellery looked like it came from Goldenhill. It all looked wearable, something anyone in the Exchange might wear. They were practical and simple pieces but had a design to them that made them pretty.
Rennell’s chocolate eyes tinkled with amusement. “These are all our creations. Our uncle runs the shop, but we come here tosell what we create. The shop pieces are more…elaborate, but we prefer a more practical approach with a touch of beauty.”
“We?”
“Rafe isn’t just a pretty face,” Rennell said with a smirk, complimenting herself, as they were both near identical in appearance. “Half of these are his creations as well.”
Rafe shifted his attention from the people bustling around them to their conversation. “Pretty things should be worn every day, not just for special occasions,” he said and then snapped his attention back to the Cloth.
Eleanor wondered what they could create. If she had enough money, she had some ideas about what she would commission. She liked Rennell’s gentle persuasion, it gave her space to decide and didn’t push her. Rennell sounded like she genuinely wanted to help her find the perfect non-existent present for herself.
