by Laura R Cole
*
Layna quickened her pace in order to keep up with Jezebel who was pushing past people with no regard for anyone around her. Given the arrogance she had just shown during the one-sided conversation in the carriage, Layna wondered if she had so much as an ounce of respect for anyone but herself. She failed to see how Jezebel could sit there and believe that she was better than everyone else simply because she happened to have been born into a wealthy noble family, but it seemed to be a popular sentiment among those born with status. Jezebel’s father was powerful and well-known for his profitable investments into the gem trades and the formidable group of well-trained guards he had to move the gems, but Jezebel herself had nothing to do with his business. Layna’s own family had been fairly well off compared to many others in their town, but she had never thought herself better than any of them because of it.
They reached the woodworker's guildhall, and Jezebel marched carelessly past the line of people to make her way inside. Layna followed, embarrassed by the looks she got from the waiting people, but made sure never to lose step with her mistress.
“Hello, Francis,” Jezebel gushed to the guild master who sat behind a large oak desk just inside the building.
He stood and greeted her with a kiss to her outstretched hand, “Jezebel, how very wonderful to see you.”
“Lady Jezebel,” she corrected, refusing to let his momentary lapse of etiquette pass without notice.
“Of course, my lady,” he amended, bowing to her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Jezebel accepted the bow with a slight nod and smiled brightly. “I’m redoing the sitting room so I'll need some custom-made pieces as soon as you can possibly do them, charged to my father's account of course.” She added, “It’s a gift.” Jezebel held her hands in front of her, palms upwards with her fingers interlaced.
Francis' eyes darted to follow the motion and he paused with a peculiar look on his face for a moment before answering. “Indeed, my lady, and a most beautiful gift it will be for such a beautiful woman. If you could follow me please.” He gave another half bow and motioned with his hand towards a back room.
Jezebel started forward, then stopped and glanced back over her shoulder at Layna. “Here,” she said extending her hand with a few coppers in it. “Go pick me out something from the sweets cart. I won't be long.” Layna nodded and started to turn away, but paused as Jezebel added, “Oh, and do get something for yourself as well. Anyone who knows how to barter should be able to get two with that.” Layna curtsied at Jezebel's insincere smile and continued to make her way back outside, glad to be out of the company of the woman.
Out in the busy street, Layna took a moment to orient herself before she spied the sweets cart over in a corner. She weaved her way through the crowd and contemplated the choices. They all looked amazingly delicious to Layna, but she had heard enough horror stories from the cook to know that Jezebel was much fussier. She eventually decided to get a pastry she had once heard the cook saying that Jezebel had enjoyed. It had been big news in the kitchen that he had been able to find something that Jezebel had nothing unfavorable to say about. Layna was able to procure just one of the tarts with the few coppers, having already known that there was no way she would be able to barter for two of any of them with the measly amount she had been given. She sighed inwardly and her mouth watered at the sight of the warm icing dripping down the sides.
Layna ducked into an alleyway to allow herself to lick where it had dripped on her finger. The sugary icing burst with warm, delicious flavor in her mouth. It was difficult to stop herself from stealing a nibble, but she fought to maintain control, and carefully carried her treasure back to the carriage to wait for her mistress.
She chatted idly with one of the merchants whose cart was near the roadside. “What do you have?” she asked the wrinkled old woman.
The merchant pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose and narrowed her eyes to inspect Layna before answering. “I've got books galore,” she stated to Layna's delight.
Reading was one of Layna’s passions, and she silently lamented her lack of money as she would have loved dearly to purchase some. “What kind of books?” she asked excitedly instead, hoping that she would get a chance to buy some someday.
“You name it, I've got it,” responded the woman proudly in typical vendor fashion. She proceeded to list off an impressive collection of titles, some of which Layna had heard of, but most of which she had not. “I even have some really rare books,” the woman said, “including this one here.” She gingerly lifted a battered old book with a peeling red satin cover and continued, “Which mysteriously lists no author, and it is a limited edition! '10 copies made, none sold' it says, but I'll sell you one today. Just don't ask how I got my hands on this book, else I'd have to kill you.”
The woman winked at her and Layna smiled at the old joke, regretfully declining. The vendor looked slightly annoyed at having wasted the effort on a non-paying customer and left Layna to try and interest someone else into buying her wares. Layna listened absently to the woman hawking books on spells that would make your true love find you, history books, adventure books, and all sorts of others. It indeed seemed that the woman really did have every book under the sun.
By the time Jezebel emerged, the tart had cooled and Layna shivered uncontrollably while hopping back and forth on her feet to keep them from turning numb. Jezebel snatched the tart and took a bite. Then, wrinkling her nose in disgust, she threw it over her shoulder into the gutter.
“I never eat these,” she declared as she opened the door to the carriage and swept inside. Layna sighed, sadly gazing at the tart as it was ruined by the mud of the street, and hauled herself into the carriage after her mistress.