Mahogany and Teakwood

Chapter 14: Petitgrain

images on the sidewalk

speak of dream's descent

The next morning, they took Logan's car—Virgil still resented that Charming knew how to drive and he didn't—and drove to a sprawling flea market about twenty minutes away.

"The first of many! I have a list," Charming proclaimed, making Virgil groan.

The market was awning-covered, hot, and crowded, a confusion of color and noise and the musty smell of old things. Annoyingly cheerful Christmas music played from tinny speakers.

Not, Virgil decided, unlike the more popular Renaissance Faires he'd done.

He appreciated the first few sword shops Charming dragged them through; Virgil's Faire experience meant he wasn't a complete idiot about weapons. Charming tried out seemingly every single sword, complaining about perceived flaws and absently flipping them over his hand; a habit that got them thrown out of two different shops and gave Virgil an excuse to laugh at Charming's Offended Princey Noises.

Virgil took them through an essential oil shop with a vague idea of finding Logan a new scent. After sniffing nearly every vial in the place, he finally went with petitgrain, a spicy, velvety oil with crisp greeny-yellow top notes and dark purple undertones. It smelled like sharp, witty comebacks and crackly black ice.

And although Charming teased Virgil for having to walk out to clear his nose three different times, Virgil caught the other changeling surreptitiously sniffing vials. He pretended not to notice when Charming left the shop with a bag as well, which he quickly tucked away.

Charming got quieter as the day went on, no longer showing off, focused on actually finding a blade he liked. By the second market and the fifth weapon shop, the allure had faded and Virgil was bored. By the fourth market, he'd tuned out entirely, except to ask when they could go home.

"This is the one, Anxiety, I feel it," Charming said in what must have been the fourteenth shop they'd visited, testing the balance of a katana blade.

"It looks just like your old one." Virgil glanced up from his phone. "And the dozen other ones you've already looked at."

"Oh, why did I even bring you along, Doctor Gloom?" Charming re-sheathed the sword with a flick of his wrist. "First you transform my beautiful sword into lilies and aconite—"

"The flowery equivalent of 'fuck you'," Virgil deadpanned.

"— and now you mock my loss! I am done, I am done here, I am done with all of you..."

Virgil ignored Charming's dramatics and went back to scrolling.

"...yes, I'll take this one, thank you."

"Finally," Virgil muttered as Charming paid for the sword, putting his phone away and looking over the sheathed blade. "It really does look just like your old one."

It did, down to the similar red wrapping around the hilt. Of course, Virgil hadn't gotten a good look at Charming's previous weapon before transforming it—he'd been a little preoccupied—but Charming refused to meet his eyes as they left.

A shit-eating grin split Virgil's face.

"Oh my god, it wasn't some heirloom, was it?" he crowed. "You liar. You probably found it the same way you found this one: hunting around shitty flea malls!"

"Don't think I won't take your whole face off." Charming mock-waved the sheathed sword.

Virgil scoffed. "Smile doesn't kill changelings, dumbass."