By early afternoon, my stomach was cramping from hunger. Or at least I hoped it was hunger pangs, rather than dysentery lurking in the foul water of the canal. I shuddered just thinking about morning swim.
"I'm going to get a bite to eat!" I announced it to the guards. "Don't move! I'll bring back some dates for you."
"Make sure they aren't too ugly," Miccola yelled back.
I grasped my tummy, rocking back-and-forth. "Oh, ha-hah, you're a hoot!"
Alas, getting a hang of the barracks humor didn't earn me back my coin, only one more jovial 'come back tomorrow, brat!'.
I found flatbread stuffed with lentils and onions at the outskirts of the Old Market where my silver got a meal and a few coppers in change, and the risk of running into saffron-clad priestesses of Gala was less.
However, getting dates meant chancing the nicer section of the market. But, without courageous charges, there can be no triumph. I straightened my tunic, finger-combed my thick hair back into place and walked under the stone arches of the sweets and dainties row. Dates, honey-combs swimming in honey, sugared mangoes and lotus... my glance darted between the choicest sweets in Palmyr. My mouth watered despite the lentils and onions. Or maybe because of them, because I was full and wanted more than being full.
But I stayed away from the temptations, making a beeline for a specific shop. Its owner greeted me. Her eyes disappeared in a spiderweb of happy wrinkles instead of glistening with curiosity. Well, what do you know, I beat the gossip! If that wasn't a sign of Divines' favor--
"Hello, Mistress Kanjin! She's asking for the third order this week," I lied after a proper bow. The sweetness of my tone paired well with the sticky goodies surrounding us, the rolls of walnuts in grape nougat, rose petals locum, the mix of seven nuts in spice and syrup crust, and so on. "Just add it to the tally, if it pleases you."
It pleased her, alright. The merchant laughed, showing decaying teeth, a testimony to her vested interest in the quality of her product. "The High Priestess must be having a tough week then!"
"I'd say so!" Gossip is as good as gold, so I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "The Queen had been holding councils. Might be a war coming or a new tax."
Then I pulled back, bobbing my head sagely.
"Divines save us from either!" Mistress Kanjin made a sign for Gala's peace, a warding against evil and stupidity. "It won't go from this room, you can count on it, Ismar."
Her bright, interested eyes annulled this promise. Luckily, it was all the same to me if she shouted it from the rooftops, as long as she gave me the stupid dates--and she did! Warmed up by gossip, Mistress Kanjin pulled out all stops. She filled an intricate palm-leaf basket with the exclusive dates and even threw in a few apricots 'on the house'. They were all plump and orange like the sun, but dried to perfection in a secret location by seven virginal boys or whatever similar elevated method. The merchant's smile hid a wink in it--everyone knew that the High Priestess found apricots too sour. It was meant for me.
I said thank you and went out.
Clutching this royal bounty to my chest, I didn't walk three steps before I spotted the saffron sarees at the arcade's entrance.
I ducked back into the sweets' shop and slipped out of the side door. I had to push my way between the boxes and carts to the next lane, the textiles and the beads, then to the copper row... and that should be it. After the copperwares I would be in the poorer area with a mishmash of peddlers squished against the public theater.
Gala's mercy, that was close... I rested my back against the wall and closed my eyes. When I opened them, a man stepped out of a curtained off entrance in front of me. Before I could scold him, he pressed his hands to his heart.
YOU ARE READING
Hearts in Zenith (Four Husbands and a Lover)
Fantasy||Reverse Harem Upbeat Adventure|| For content review purposes, please note that Ismar is 18 yo when the story starts and ages up from there. Powerful matriarchal clan, strong daughters and military glory are solid life goals. But whenever Ismar's m...