“Perhaps they are, Mademoiselle,” Vitore, an Aveyron lady’s maid who had voluntarily become the market-stall-minder, said.
“But why?” Cinderella said as the soldiers disappear deeper into the market. “Vitore?” Cinderella said when the maid did not respond. Most of Cinderella’s servants would not speak familiarly with Cinderella. However, Vitore, a renowned gossip, tended to be less tight-lipped than the rest of the staff.
Vitore made a show of looking around the produce stall, but she and Cinderella were the only representatives from Aveyron in the market. “There are rumors someone broke into the Royal Trieux Library,” Vitore whispered.
“Oh. That’s nothing new. Those incidents started well over a year ago,” Cinderella said.
“Yes, but I heard they’re close to capturing the culprit,” Vitore said.
Cinderella winced. “I see.”
When a potential customer strolled closer to the stall, Vitore remembered herself and bobbed a curtsey, cheerfully calling out to the customer. “Winter wheat, potatoes, and carrots! All of them as sweet as summer,” she sang out like the rest of the market stall merchants.
As Vitore haggled with customers, Cinderella finished stocking the stall. She secured the chicken eggs so they wouldn’t fall, propped up a basket of goat-milk soaps, and arranged the vegetables.
“You’re set,” Cinderella said during a brief lull in sales. “A stable boy will check in with you at noon to carry any empty baskets home.”
“Thank you, Mademoiselle,” Vitore said, curtsying to Cinderella.
Cinderella wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Of course,” she said. “I will be…”
“…Mademoiselle?” Vitore said when Cinderella didn’t finish the sentence.
Cinderella nodded her head at a group of Erlauf soldiers who strolled into the market. There were too many to be on patrol, but they were in uniform, so it was likely they were still on duty. They all wore the burgundy Erlauf uniform covered by charcoal-gray chest armor, gloves, boots, and helm.
A man at the front of the herd wore the garb of a ranking officer. He had a long, burgundy coat that fell past his knees and was slit from behind like a swallow’s tail. Medals were pinned over his heart; his undershirt, the hem of the jacket, and his breeches were Erlauf gray. His most striking feature was the black patch covering his right eye. 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. The brim of the hat was wide and drooping, and, following Erlauf custom, the left brim was pinned to the side of the crown. Based on all the medals pinned to his chest, he had to be at least a captain, perhaps even a major.
Cinderella clenched her sweaty hands into fists. It was unusual to see a ranking officer, especially one so young. He couldn’t be much older than twenty.
The market went quiet as the officer and his men strolled down the lane, stopping at Cinderella’s stand.
“Can I help you?” Cinderella said, keeping her voice polite but cool as Vitore retreated to the back of the stall.
The officer studied Cinderella as a few of his men prodded the produce. He said nothing as his eye traced Cinderella’s body.
Cinderella swallowed hard and kept herself schooled in spite of the revulsion that curled in her stomach. “Sir?” she said.
The officer returned his attention to Cinderella’s face, his eye taking in her short hair.
“Didya have a tangle with someone?” a soldier at the officer’s right shoulder asked, gesturing to Cinderella’s hair.
Cinderella stared at him for a moment before she shaped her lips into a fake smile. “How could I with all of you fine sirs patrolling this city and keeping us safe?”
A few of the soldiers guffawed.
The officer reached into a pouch that hung from his black belt. “How much are the carrots?” he asked. His voice was low-pitched, like a cat’s growl.
“Five cooper coins for a bundle, ten for a basket,” Cinderella said, overcharging the market price by two copper coins.
The officer tossed ten copper coins on the stand. “One basket,” he said, his eye fixed on Cinderella.
Cinderella felt his gaze as she tucked the coins away and dumped a basket of carrots in a sack and offered it to the officer. “Thank you for the business.”
As she held the vegetables out, a smirk spread across the officer’s lips. “Until tomorrow,” he said, touching the brim of his hat.
Cinderella shoved her hands behind the stand after the officer took the carrots, shielding her shaking fists from the soldiers’ notice. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she watched them go.
“Animals,” Vitore muttered in the back corner as she folded burlap sacks.
“Yes,” Cinderella grimly agreed.