I spat the shell of a melon seed like it had done me a great personal offense and rolled my sleeves over my cuffs.
The bell over Nadia’s shop jangled. “Sylvia!” Fairel greeted. She scurried to fetch her mistress.
“We take care of our own before any of those donkeys from Gahre,” Nadia said as Fairel carried out two chairs. She refused to let me pay her, a frustrating sort of reverse-haggling the elders of Omal too often engaged in. Accepting her generosity without argument would also be grounds for offense, so I did not leave until I had persuaded her to come into Rory’s shop for three free bottles of ointment for her knees.
Fairel helped me carry the chairs. “Is it true, Sylvia? Have you met the Nizahl Heir? The Commander?”
I groaned. It had been less than five hours since I saw Fairel. Had news traveled so quickly? “Fay.”
She bit her lip. “Forgive me, I should hold my tongue, but it’s all so exciting, isn’t it? An Heir in our village, searching for his Champion! The girls say he’s odd-looking. Handsome, though. Very handsome. Have you ever seen hair colored so strangely? Like moonlight. What do you think?”
“I think you’re never too old for a spanking.” We rounded the corner, coming into view of the shop.
Fairel’s chair fell from her suddenly limp grip, hitting my foot. I cried out, hopping to the side. “Fairel! What has gotten into you?”
I followed the source of the girl’s stupefaction. Standing at the door of his shop, Rory held himself stiffly near the Nizahl Heir and his guard. The three men in the rear appeared to be suppressing smirks, which explained why Fairel was blanching. Her words had carried.
She dropped to her knees, shaking like an autumn leaf. The sight brought a sour taste to my mouth. “My lord, I didn’t intend any disrespect. Silly gossip—you’re very pleasing to behold, truly—they just meant your hair was odd. And your face is just lovely, honest, the best I’ve ever seen. Silver is an unusual color for Omal, you see—”
A lightness of spirit had not visited Vaun since we last met. He scowled at the girl. I scooted in front of her, matching his glare with my own.
“Your Highness. I see you have chosen to continue honoring our humble village with your company.”
“It is I who have the honor,” Arin said. To Fairel, he nodded. “You may rise.”
Fairel nearly toppled on the length of her skirt. I steadied her elbow, squeezing tight lest she find inspiration to dive for further prostrations. At the Commander’s steady gaze, she folded close to my side. My muscles clenched, resisting the urge to fling her off.
“Silver is an unusual color for any kingdom,” he said. “Thank you.”
When I could bear it no longer, I peeled Fairel off my person. “Go. Nadia is waiting for you.”
Fairel set off at a run. The Heir and I regarded each other. His hair was tied back at the nape, not a single lock astray. His soldiers had made no effort to blend into the populace, laced in the dark hues and overcoats of Nizahl. The street was unusually still. Despite their curiosity, the residents of Mahair possessed a healthy sense of caution. They pressed inside their shops and windows, climbing atop one another for a glimpse of the Heir and his guard.
“Mahair will certainly lack in excitement when you depart, my liege,” I said, gesturing at the windows. “Whenever that sad occasion may be.”
The Commander glanced at the shops, causing a scramble as people ducked away from the windows. “Then it is fortunate I intend to remain in Mahair until the end of the waleema.”
I forced myself not to react. Only a guilty person would take this news poorly. The treaty Nizahl signed with the other kingdoms didn’t allow them to hurt just anyone—only Jasadis.
“I am surprised you seek to explore the lower villages,” I said, proud when my voice didn’t crack with anger. “There is not much to find in our corner of Omal. Certainly not a Champion.”
“I disagree,” he said. “There is plenty to be found, if one knows where to look.”
The Commander （Arin, his name was Arin, his mother hadn’t named him Commander or Nizahl Heir） stepped toward me. I prepared myself. I was coming to realize that every exchange with this man was consciously directed, designed to entrap.
He addressed his next words to Rory. “Her services as an apprentice must be unparalleled if she is twice employed.”
Twice? I glanced at Rory. He looked similarly mystified. I took additional work only over the summer, when Yuli paid handsomely for seasonal farmhands.