Page 12 of A Fate so Cruel

The male’s face turned red and he cleared his throat before taking the offered coins. “Okay, but two tries for the price of one. I insist.”

She smirked. “It’ll only take one.”

It most certainly didn’t take one. It was Rion’s turn to laugh at his sister as she tried time and time again to get the small ring on the neck of the green bottles laid out before her. The game looked simple, yet the ring bounced off the glasses and hit the ground no matter what his sister tried. Rion threw a few, but quickly gave the rings back to Saoirse. Even the merchant laughed, clearly amused by her level of dedication.

It seemed like the millionth toss before the ring bounced from one glass to another and finally settled around the neck of a bottle. Saoirse jumped and shouted her victory. Several who’d paused to watch clapped their hands. Rion smiled at her and the merchant congratulated her on a job well done, his purse far heavier than it’d been before their arrival.

The merchant reached for the small fox. “This was the one, wasn’t it?”

Rion nodded and took the stuffed creature. He buried his face in the soft fur, then looked up at Saoirse who was smiling down at him.

“Would you like anything else?” the male asked. “I’d feel terribly guilty if that’s all you took.”

His sister eyed the rack, eyes scanning, and finally pointed to a small pink creature that resembled a forest sprite save for the bright color. “I’ll take that one.”

“Done.” The male packed it up and Saoirse handed the stuffed creature to one of the female slaves following them. The slave pulled a small black wagon full of little bags and trinkets Saoirse had purchased earlier. The slave looked at Rion’s fox, but Rion held it tighter and stepped away from the slave’s reach.

Another of the Fairy Folk whizzed by his head, rising higher and higher until it perched on one of the ropes above that served as a hand rail for any who strolled through the canopy. Many Fae sat up there now, watching the festivities from a long bridge above. He imagined the view resembled a fairy tale from one of his children’s books.

Another of the Fairy Folk joined the forest sprite, balancing on the ropes before it pulled out a tiny instrument. With spindly fingers it lifted the flute-like contraption to its lips and began playing. Several others joined it.

The tune was pleasant and light and pulled at fond memories he’d nearly forgotten. Many paused to stare, marveling at the strange beings who kept balance in their world.

“Do you think I could play music like that?”

Saoirse followed his gaze, a soft smile on her face. “I think you could do anything you set your mind to.”

Maybe he’d start reading books on it now and by the winter solstice, he could join the Fairy Folk in their ethereal melodies.

They continued walking. Saoirse didn’t mention the performers again. In fact, she almost seemed to avoid them, and Rion wondered if she understood exactly how he’d been feeling earlier.

She purchased him far more treats than their father would have normally allowed, and played games throughout the night. Saoirse always won or kept going until she achieved victory. Rion played a few as well and proved he could be just as persistent.

He wondered if the Fairy Folk would visit his room that night. They always appeared at his window during the solstices, though no one ever believed him, Saoirse included. He’d been told no one could touch the small creatures. They were sacred. But when he was alone, they always found him. They would landon his shoulders and play at his feet before disappearing in the trees.

His mother had believed him.

Saoirse took his hand and led her little brother to another stall and another and another. He smiled, listening to the music and wished every night could be as magical as this one.

***

Hours later, Rion’s feet ached and his stomach was nearly to the point of bursting. He’d have been content to curl up on a bench and sleep until morning, but Saoirse scooped him into her arms. Voices echoed around him, but he ignored their whispering, content to sleep in the safety of his sister’s embrace.

“Rion,” Saoirse whispered. He buried his head against her shoulder, but she shook him again. “Wake up sleepy head.”

He didn’t want to wake up. He just wanted his bed and to sleep until noon or past it. Reluctantly, he cracked one eye open. “What?”

“I need to talk to someone; do you think you could wait here for a minute?”

Rion blinked and glanced around only to find them in their father’s study. He didn’t like coming in here, not anymore. There were too many important documents. He’d been told it wasn’t a room meant for younglings.

“I’m not allowed in here,” Rion said, followed by a yawn.

She set him down anyway. “I’ll only be a minute. Just curl up on the chair, then I’ll take you to your room.”

He nodded and staggered toward the large, plush armchair in the corner. Rion wondered if anyone ever sat in it or if it was only there for decoration. Saoirse disappeared without another word, leaving Rion in the room alone.

A fire didn’t warm the hearth, to which he was grateful; it was too hot for a fire. He curled up on the chair and held his fox close. Rion turned and stretched out one leg. He rolled again and repositioned his arm. He kicked off his shoes and loosened the top button of his shirt. He wished he had his pajamas.

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