It was late in the year for sun, even this far south. But, I had to admit, it made the city sparkle and come alive.
The fresh snow on the rooftops sent rainbows skittering in every direction, the low sun occasionally whiting out my vision, forcing me to trust my insticts about where would be safe enough to walk.
Jesa waited outside her family home, pink dress making her stand out among soggy brown cloaks and stained work dresses. My own grey patchwork, the best of my three dress wardrobe, looked unbearably shabby beside hers. But, when she offered me her usual wide smile, I managed to ignore the obvious differences between us.
The mid-week market bustled, stall holders hawking their wares, each shouting louder than the next. Potential buyers, meanwhile, were pushing and shoving, thronging around the favoured sellers, spattering mud on clean hems in their haste. It was a strange thing to witness.
Together we perused, pausing to allow snooty women, parasols up in the air like their noses, to shove past the common traders to the merchant stalls at the very edge of the square. Jesa strayed to a fabric stall and, sensing she would be a while, I wandered off to have a nose around some of the trinket stalls.
It was rare I could ever afford to buy anything much, but little pairs of earrings were cheap enough and so I had amassed a number of them since I began working. The first stall I tried had nothing but a few studs and I had plenty of those already. The second was far more varied, several pairs of drop earrings catching my attention.
As I was perusing, trying to choose between a pair of twisted silver and peridot drops or a pair of Kayann Knots with obsidian at the centre, another pair of customers arrived. One was tall, the other tiny. I recognised their travelling cloaks from the previous night.
Instead of abandoning my search and walking away as I should have done, I continued to appraise the earrings so I could listen as Tur spoke with the stallholder.
"I'm looking for something very specific, a diamond. It would look something like this." From a pocket within his cloak, Tur withdrew a diamond, roughly the size of an eyeball. I observed from the corner of my eye, trying not to alert anyone to my eavesdropping.
"I've nothing like that. You'd do better with the merchant stalls, they've a wider variety."
Tur nodded, he and his companion leaving as quickly as they'd come. I quickly finished my own shopping and wove through the crowd until I was once again at Jesa's side. She hadn't noticed my absence and didn't seem to sense that I was no longer so enthused by our amble through the market.
My heart was double timing against my ribs, anxiety coursing through me, a little voice urging me to go home and lock myself in somewhere safe. The fingers on both my hands tried to reach for my neck, instinct driving them to check what was hiding against my heart was, in fact, still there. I fought it, quashing the urge, reminding myself that there was nothing there, it was a phantom feeling.
Occasionally, she checked around to be sure no one was watching her, to be sure the travellers were nowhere near us. Surely I was just being paranoid.
As Jesa was conversing with a particularly eager thread seller, I made my excuses and slipped from the market square, blending easily into the grubby workers milling about. Careful not to draw attention, I headed back to my home where I locked myself inside.
When I was in my bedroom, I got to my knees and reached beneath my bed for the box pressed against the wall. It was a square music box, made of rosewood with polished mahogany inlays. The pattern it made was a single rose. As I lifted the lid, the soft tones of Little Rose of Home filled the dingy room.
Nestled within, was a faded and yellowed envelope and a velvet pouch. I picked it up, marvelling, as I always did, at the weight of the object it concealed. I pulled open the drawstrings and tipped the contense into my palm.
The necklace glinted to the best of its ability, what light there was bouncing off the silver patternwork surrounding the eyeball sized diamond. My fingers shook as they traced the palm-sized amulet.
I studied the central diamond, trying to deny what I already knew; this stone was the sister to the one Tur had been showing to the stallholder.
Why was he looking for stones like this? What would he do if he found out that I had one like his own? I had to find out more.
YOU ARE READING
Diamond Heart
FantasyAya is used to feeling alone. Considered an outcast and abandoned at birth, she has no idea who her family are. All she has are the amulet her mother left with her and the letter she wrote to explain. When the mysterious Tur'An arrives in her kingdo...
