Page 12 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

“I get it,” Nola said, “I understand, but I hate it.”

Nola smiled faintly again and gave her mum a nod. She looked to her father, who only winked at her when Val turned to look out to the hills.

“Finish eatin’, your food is gettin’ cold,” he said. “We’ll discuss this another day, alright?”

Nola flashed a smile to them both and dove into her omelet.

After they had filled up with food, Nola cleared the table and changed into clean clothes. She helped her father load up the stock into the carriage and set the course towards the city.

* * *

Once they reached the marketplace, just a couple minutes outside the palace drawbridge, Nola spotted the three rows of vendors that lined the grey-brick walls.

The palace was so beautiful, Nola had a hard time averting her eyes. The walls were a clean shade of slate. Every stone, intricately carved, built up the walls gleaming with wealth and exquisite detail. Precious-stone mosaic windows lined the front, accompanying a drawbridge at the center. To the sides, a bridge over a small, rippled river led to the main gates. The marketplace started right at the front of the bridge and ran until it reached the main square.

Nola grabbed a few loose strands of hair coming out of her head wrap and tucked them securely out of view. Her heart was beating frantically, pulsating on her neck. Every time the guards walked past her, she felt nauseous; she worried they could see the fear in her eyes.

Still, she had to remain calm. Her father needed her that day because every sale was a plate of food on the table, and they could not afford to not to sell everything they had. Her father was the best bowyer in all Zemira, so she was confident they would sell out.

The process of carving and constructing a bow was tedious and tiresome, her father would tell her. However, he could sell each one for at least fifty coins, which was enough to buy food for a week.

“There might be quite a rush by high noon, so I’ll need you and your mum to be ready to take payment if I’m baggin’ up the weaponry or instructin’ them on how to use it,” he said. “I made three times as many bows this month, so I need to push them out.”

“Got it,” Nola assured. “Do you still need me to demonstrate?”

He smirked. “Only if they’re ’bout to walk away from a deal and need a little more persuasion. They’ll buy once you show them how fast them arrows fly.”

Nola perked up and helped her father set the rest of the bows and arrows along with the wooden table and racks under the tent. She then walked twenty feet from the tent and set up the target board. “There,” she said, “we’re ready, Father.”

Mrs. Lardbrak, not knowing much about selling weaponry, laid out a table of apple cider brew and muffins she had baked that morning.

“They ’ill need to eat,” Val said. “I’m sellin’ these, so tha’ ‘ill be extra money for us. If it gets busy, I’ll put this aside and ’elp.”

“We’ve got this, Mother,” Nola said, giving her a playful wink.”

* * *

The morning rush flitted by quickly. It was as busy as her father had assumed it would be. But once it had slowed down to less than one customer every half hour, Nola had become bored.

Being as great of a salesman as he was a bowyer, her father was having no troubles selling the product he had worked day and night on for the last thirty days. He had not needed her to show the precision of his bows at all. So, she spent most of the time chattering with her mother and helping her pass out muffins and cider.

“Father, may I go for a walk?” she asked him. “I promise I’ll be safe. I just want to see the city.”

He was counting out the last few coins from the sale before turning to her. “I might need you,” he replied, hopefully.

Nola’s shoulders slouched. “I doubt it. I’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, and we’ve seen one customer.” She folded her arms and leaned back into her chair. “I’ve never seen the city other than when I was a little girl, and even then, we were in and out of that chocolate shop before I could count to ten. It’s not very often I—”

“Alright. Alright,” Duncan said in defeat.

Nola’s stomach leapt with joy, but the moment, however, was cut short as she eyed her mother, folding her arms, stomping her foot in protest.

“Duncan!” her mother snapped, shaking her head at him.

Nola glanced at her parents, scrunching up her face in irritation. “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “I’ll use proper judgment on who I speak with. I’ll avoid getting too close to the palace gates.”

As dangerous as it was for her to venture off and how much she truly understood her mother’s protest, her desire to see more was overwhelming. There was not much to see in her little village; the experiences it had given her the last twenty years were no longer enough. Her adventurous spirit was aching to be released.

“I’ll go wit’ you,” her mother said, “It does not matter wha’ precautions ye take; ye ain’t walkin’ the city alone.”

“Mother, please! I doubt King Matthias will be visiting the marketplace today, anyway. He’s probably too busy admiring himself in the mirror.” Nola snickered but stopped as her parents’ eyes went wide, looking over her shoulder.

A shiver crawled up Nola’s spine as she heard a deep voice from behind her.

“What was that you said?”

Her father and mother knelt quickly to the ground. She felt her mother’s hand tug at her wrist. She instead yanked her arm away and whipped around to see Prince Elijah staring back at her.

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