Forever Green

~ 44 ~ Playing with Fire

It was her fault. All of this was. Lenesa couldn't stop her mental self-berating as she chased after Kivirra and Gil. If she hadn't so carelessly left Gil in Theiden's care and just checked before she sent the witch hunter home, the poor goblin wouldn't be running terrified through the city now. And cats and cauldrons, but that goblin was fast!

At least the running cleared her head, and distracted her from the pain in her shoulder and the discussion she had been backed into at her aunt's house.   The witches chased Gil up streets and through alleys, the little red mischief-maker always managing to keep just ahead of them.

At one point, Lenesa turned a street ahead of Kivirra, intending to cut the distance and catch up at the next block.  When she came to the next intersecting street, however, the witch and goblin were nowhere to be seen. Lenesa swore and ran up to the block where she had last seen them, but it was no use. She had lost them.

In the silence that followed in her failure, Lenesa realized that there was actually quite a lack of it—of the silence, that was, though she would have preferred the lack of failure instead. Cheering and music was coming from just a few streets over, and curious, Lenesa followed the sounds, despite the wringing sensation in her stomach that warned it was a bad idea and dangerous to get close to so many people.

It was easy to find the source of the noise—a large plaza at the top of the foothill this neighborhood was built on, with a clear view of the rest of Patachal city. It was difficult to see over so many of the people that had gathered, but it looked like a stage had been constructed in the middle of the plaza, and several ladies had lined up to show off in front of the crowd.

Curious, Lenesa drew closer, carefully weaving through the crowd of masks and painted faces, careful to keep her own face concealed. It looked like people were having fun, and she wanted to know what the commotion was about. She was cautious, however, of the large bonfire on the other side of the stage, half-hidden behind a fountain. Though far away, Lenesa could still feel the heat of the flames, and it was a grim reminder of what the city liked to do to her kind.

"Ladies, please give the crowd your best curtseys!" a wide-hipped matronly woman in a full skirt announced from the stage, gesturing to the other women beside her. The young ladies each gave their fullest smile and curtseyed to the crowd as gracefully as they could, and were met with enthusiastic cheers in return.

Lenesa's stomach sank as she realized what the fuss was about. She had heard of the midsummer competition for Flower Queen, but had never witnessed it until now. Usually, it was only the richest and prettiest ladies who were selected to participate, neither of which Lenesa was—not that she could have participated anyway. But it was still odd for her to think that there was a contest based purely on fortune, facial feature inheritance, and society's beauty standards. Almost all the women on display were like petite flowers and porcelain dolls, evidently used to being indoors and having men and servants cater to their needs. Their carefully measured movements made sure that they would never accidentally knock over a vase or trip on their own feet.

It wasn't human, Lenesa thought, to appear so perfect and fragile and to idolize people for it, and it unnerved her, more so than the leering masks and brightly-painted faces around her. What was more, the false friends and disloyal followers that the contestants would earn with their resulting popularity would, it seemed to Lenesa, only make them feel more isolated. She'd prefer to live alone in her cottage on Nagamora mountain than be surrounded by empty, hollow friends

But enough musing—she had dallied too long. Taking in a deep breath, Lenesa turned to fight her way out of the crowd that she had gotten herself sucked into, but froze as another hooded figure in the crowd caught her eye.