Part 1
I adjusted my lenses in an attempt to avoid the morning sun’s glare whilst making my way through Highbank’s market. The unavoidable sphere shone unobscured by clouds and made it difficult to navigate around the stalls. Unfortunately, the fruit stands were out to get me. Four times they found ways to show up just as I turned corners or averted my eyes from a particularly bright flash. Considering what was going on in the manor, however, I took comfort in the idea that sunlight and produce would be my biggest challenges today. It was this cheery thought that held my attention when a table of carrots struck me across the middle.
*whump*
“Ow!” I bent over and grabbed my side. A sheaf of carrots jostled to the ground.
“Hey! Watch it!” A shrill voice rebuked. I turned to see a woman bent down and picking up the fallen vegetables.
“Ah, my apologies ma—”
I was cut off. “I don’t want to hear it! Honestly, I’ve been setting up in the same spot every day for a year now. You’d think people would have a little situational awareness but noooooo!” She fixed me with a glare that made me feel like I had halved in size. “You’re all always ‘oh, sorry, didn’t see you there!’ Like hell you don’t see me here! It’s a big, honkin’ block of wood with carrots on it! Not that hard to miss!”
Sufficiently intimidated, I decided that the most prudent option would be to flee. My side still smarted and made turning difficult, but the pain subsided by the time several rows had been placed between the angry carrot woman and myself. I could still hear her ranting over the bustle of merchants and customers. She seemed to have moved on to harping about youth and real estate. I’d have to take a different route back to the manor, it seemed. Perhaps I could cut through the clothing stalls or maybe double around the inn. Eh, I wouldn’t be heading back until later anyway; I could worry about carrot avoidance later. It was a nice day—annoying sun aside—and I was looking forward to a nice, refreshing, str—
*whump*
““Mrp!" It took a great deal of control to hold back on cursing. For the second time in ten minutes I clutched my side as I heard something roll off a table.
“Hey! Watch it!” A gruff voice chided. A man picked a wooden object off the ground and began examining it carefully. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him while his face was turned away. “This stuff is fragile! Do you know how easy it is to damage wood? If there’s even the slightest crack I’ll have the guard haul you up so...quick...that...” His voice trailed off as he turned to face me. Bushy eyebrows spiked in alarm and a terse mouth fumbled wordlessly.
I smiled weakly, still wincing from pain, but glad that I could now place him. “Hullo, Samuels.”
“Aaaah...Baron Wright!
“Please, just Sennel, Sam, I’m just Sennel.” I said as gainly as I could manage. “My father is the one with titles, not me.”
“Ah, but still, please forgive my rudeness, sir! I didn’t see you at first.”
“You have every right to be annoyed. I had a...err...run in...and was distracted.”
Samuels paused. “A run in? Oh, you mean Eugenia Feldman? The woman with the carrots? I was wondering what set her off. Well don’t take it too hard, sir. I’m sure she just didn’t recognize you.”
I shrugged, which was uncomfortable due to my injury. As much as I liked Samuels, there was always an awkward reverence whenever he spoke to me. I noticed he was eyeing my side.
“It’s nothing.” I said quickly. “I walked into—Eugenia, was it?—I walked into her table, too. It’s probably nothing. The pain should go away in a few and I can salve it when I go back to the manor.” Searching for a new topic, I added, “What have you been working on, anyway, Samuels? I haven’t seen you in the market for a good two months.”
Samuels’ eyes glinted in the manner of all merchants about to make a sales pitch. “Glad you asked, sir! I’ve been refining my skills, you see! Furniture is a fine market, ta be sure, but it just don’t have the same long-term market applications. People will buy a chair or desk, yea, but most folks ain’t gonna need ta buy again. So I’ve moved on to a business with more of a repeat clientele.”
He looked at me expectantly. I took the hint. “So now you’re selling...?”
“Tools!” Samuels exclaimed. He gestured to his table and snatched up a hammer. “The trick’s in the grip, see? An axe or hammer’s no good if you can’t get a good grip on it. Here, feel it!”
He thrust the hammer into my hands. I adjusted my lenses before inspecting. As unfamiliar as I was with tools, I could tell that the hammer bore the same hallmarks as Samuels’ furniture. “It’s very smooth.”
Samuels nodded eagerly. “Yea, it is! But grip it tight and feel how firm that wood is! Solid all the way through too! You could bash someone’s head in without losing hold!”
“Right...” I muttered awkwardly as I handed the hammer back. “Wait, weren’t you saying something about wood being easy to damage?”
“Eh? Oh! No, sir! Not at all! I was referring ta one of the knick-knacks I make with the leftover wood. Not all of it is good for tools!” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out what I guessed to be the object I had knocked off the table. “Here, take a looker.”
It was a small model of a frog. The thing was surprisingly heavy despite being able to fit in my palm.
“People like ‘em.” Samuels explained. “Adds a bit of flavour around the house, you know? You can keep that if y’like, sir.” He added.
I knew Samuels well enough that I didn’t bother protesting. Nonetheless, when he turned his back to exude on the wonders of a shovel being inspected by a passer-by, I returned the frog to his table before leaving. I never liked it when people gave me things; it created feeliings of obligation. While the pain in my side had lessened by now, I didn’t want to risk another table encounter so instead of continuing my walk I decided to go back to the manor. I also didn’t want another Eugenia encounter, so I took the path by the inn to avoid the food stalls. There was an odd flower growing along the bushes behind the inn that attracted my attention. A curious shade of violet, its petals curved in a manner reminiscent of someone wearing a robe or hood. Strangely, there was but a single such flower among the bushes. I surmised that the rest had been picked by others and did the same to this straggler. It was pretty enough, and I could always use another bookmark back at the manor.
Father was passing through the main hall when I returned. “Ah, Sennel!” he exclaimed upon seeing me. “Back so soon?
Not wanting to admit my clumsiness, I said, “I decided to cut my walk short today. Have a headache.” Which was at least true; an uncomfortable pressure had suddenly developed between my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting Baron Sunder?”
“Already met! Sunders is a good chap, but our conversations are never long save for negotiations. He saves his best words for the table, as it seems. Keep that in mind, by the way, Sennel. Don’t assume the Sunders you’ll be seeing over the next day will be the one you’ll be up against in the meetings.”
I nodded. “I understand, your Grace. If I may be excused, however, I have preparations for that same meeting to attend.”
Father smiled. “Yes, of course, please don’t let me hold you.”
“Thank you, your Grace.” I bowed before making by way up the stairs. To my surprise, I found Melanie at the top looking over the banister.
“I still think it’s weird to hear you calling your father, ‘Grace’.” She chirped without preamble and began following me through the halls.
“It’s good practice.” I affirmed. “In a day’s time I’ll be making my first negotiations. Politeness is essential in politics. I’ve known Baron Sunders since I was a child, but I can’t treat him casually at the table.”
“Riiiiight...because a trade agreement that’s been renewed without issue five times in a row over the past ten years is /such/ an important issue.”
I scowled. “And it was renewed each time because both parties follow both proper procedure and social niceties. Barons Sunders and Wright have been allies for so long because they both respect each other. If I insult Sunders during the negotiations it could hurt our trade relations.” As we turned a corner I added, “You should be preparing for this sort of thing too, Mel. You’ll have to do your share of politics once we get married next year.”
A laugh. “Ahah! And here I thought you had no sense of humour. Trust me, Senny, anyone who has to negotiate with /me/ is going to have their hands full!”
I had to agree. Melanie dealt with people bluntly and without any sense of tact. The effect was jarring to say the least, but she managed to make it work for her. I suspected part of the reason Duke Valens offered her for a marriage alliance was the hope that I could instil a bit of decorum in the girl. While I had failed miserably in that regard, we at least got along.
“If you could lend me a hand,” I said while opening the door to my room, “I injured myself in the market and could use some help checking it.”
Melanie smirked. “You walked into a table again, didn’t you? Seriously, Sen, sunlight plus glasses is a bad idea.”
“I assure you, I’d get a lot more injuries if I went without them.” I replied while pulling up my shirt. “Could you check for a bruise?”
“Yea, yea...” Melanie bent down and looked. “It’s a bit red. Does it hurt when I poke it?”
“A little.”
“Well there’s no bruise. Probably just salve it, I’d say.” She got back up and retrieved a green bottle from my washroom. “Here.”
“Thanks.” As I took the salve, I realized that I was still holding the flower I had picked earlier. I placed it on my desk before applying the frigid goo to my side. At least this new formula didn’t stink...
“What’s that?”
“Eh?” I looked round and saw Melanie eyeing the flower. “Right, that. I found it growing behind the inn. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
A shrug. “I guess. I’m not much interested in flowers. What’s it called?”
“Not a clue. I can look it up later. Anyway, I have to work on my plans for the trade meeting with Duke Sunders, could you give me some time alone?
“Yea, yea...”
Melanie left the room. I drew a notebook from my desk drawer. Sitting down, I began to go over my notes. From what I knew of Sunders’ barony from past trips—both for leisure and while accompanying Father during diplomatic visits—Sunders’ citizenry were very fond of goods produced by Wright’s people. This was mostly clothing, tools, and furniture though, not essentials like food or materials like lumber. The reverse was true for Father’s domain. His people relied on the wood and ore that was plentiful in Sunders’ lands.
The main point of contention during the trade meeting was going to be taxes. Due to conflicts with the southern baronies during the last time the agreement was renewed, Sunders had agreed to lower taxes on Highbank’s imports in exchange for Father offering military aid. Even though the current situation was relatively peaceful, my objective was to end the meeting with as few changes to the agreement as possible. This meant that I would have to find something new to offer Sunders since he no longer needed soldiers. Hmm...
I rubbed my temple. The pressure had grown from uncomfortable to pounding. How lovely, first an injured side, now a headache. Searching for a distraction, I grabbed the flower and began twisting its stem in my fingers. No luck. I tried counting its petals. The pressure turned to pain. I screwed up my eyes and dropped the flower, desperately trying to focus on anything other than the mounting—
“AH-CHOO~!”
