The brim of the hat was wide and drooping, and, following Erlauf custom, the left brim was pinned to the side of the crown. It was secured to his head with two black bands that stretched across his face and ran through his messy, dark brown hair that poked out from underneath his military hat. His most striking feature was the black patch covering his right eye. Medals were pinned over his heart his undershirt, the hem of the jacket, and his breeches were Erlauf gray. He had a long, burgundy coat that fell past his knees and was slit from behind like a swallow’s tail. They all wore the burgundy Erlauf uniform covered by charcoal-gray chest armor, gloves, boots, and helm.Ī man at the front of the herd wore the garb of a ranking officer. There were too many to be on patrol, but they were in uniform, so it was likely they were still on duty. “…Mademoiselle?” Vitore said when Cinderella didn’t finish the sentence.Ĭinderella nodded her head at a group of Erlauf soldiers who strolled into the market. “Thank you, Mademoiselle,” Vitore said, curtsying to Cinderella.Ĭinderella wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “A stable boy will check in with you at noon to carry any empty baskets home.” “You’re set,” Cinderella said during a brief lull in sales. She secured the chicken eggs so they wouldn’t fall, propped up a basket of goat-milk soaps, and arranged the vegetables. “Winter wheat, potatoes, and carrots! All of them as sweet as summer,” she sang out like the rest of the market stall merchants.Īs Vitore haggled with customers, Cinderella finished stocking the stall. When a potential customer strolled closer to the stall, Vitore remembered herself and bobbed a curtsey, cheerfully calling out to the customer. “Yes, but I heard they’re close to capturing the culprit,” Vitore said.
Those incidents started well over a year ago,” Cinderella said. “There are rumors someone broke into the Royal Trieux Library,” Vitore whispered. Vitore made a show of looking around the produce stall, but she and Cinderella were the only representatives from Aveyron in the market.
However, Vitore, a renowned gossip, tended to be less tight-lipped than the rest of the staff. Most of Cinderella’s servants would not speak familiarly with Cinderella. “Vitore?” Cinderella said when the maid did not respond. “But why?” Cinderella said as the soldiers disappear deeper into the market.
“Perhaps they are, Mademoiselle,” Vitore, an Aveyron lady’s maid who had voluntarily become the market-stall-minder, said.
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