Page 18 of Like Matches for Wishes

“No tears, my dear,” he says. “You are too beautiful for tears. And your gram is strong. She’ll outlive us all. Now, go. The eve is young, like you. Find your Jordy and dance.”

I give him an inquisitive look. “And how do you know I’m looking for Jordy?”

He whispers, “The entire village knows you’re looking for Jordy.” He claps a hand on top of mine and squeezes, wittiness ever his companion. “Enjoy the dance, my sweet little match girl.”

I walk the expanse of the room again. Jordy is nowhere to be seen. I glance back at the food table. It is now piled high with wheat loafs and sweet bread, which means Jordy is here, just indisposed. Now would be a good time for some ale. I make my way toward the beverages.

“Your majesty,” an elderly woman says, falling to my feet and extending her hands. “Blessings, your highness.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.What is she doing?“I’m not royalty, madam. I don’t even go to court. You have me confused with someone else.”

“Begging your pardon, my lady,” an older gentleman says, obviously her husband. He hurriedly pulls her up by her shoulders as she protests.

“That’s the queen, Eldridge,” the old woman shouts near his ear. “Can’t you see that’s the queen? Show some respect.”

“She has her good days and bad,” her husband says. “She gets so confused. Please, forgive us, mistress.”

“Nothing to forgive,” I say. “No harm done.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He gives me a twitchy smile and shuffles her out of my way.

I fluff my skirts and head for the beverage table and notice Treena the moment she spots me. She is standing with a group of maidens, all ladies of the court. And all eyes are on me.

“Milla?” Treena calls out, “Milla the match girl?” Shock lines her face at the sight of my gown, but she breaks into robust laughter after several moments. “What gentleman has paid for that adornment, and what does he expect in return?”

The other maidens cover their mouths with gloved hands, hiding their giggles or shocked surprise. It’s never easy to discern which one.

“A gentleman?” I feign misunderstanding of her implication. “Did a gentleman purchase yours for you, dear Treena? If so, he has good taste. It is quite lovely.”

The maidens do little to hide their reaction to my observation, laughter pouring through their fingers. Treena runs a hand down the front of her tasteful, but flowy blue gown. It does match her eyes, and her chestnut hair is in perfect ringlets that cup her face—the face of an angel that hides a devil’s soul. Had she not been insulting me I would believe her rather fetching this evening. But her ugliness has nothing to do with the way she’s dressed.

“Gentleman or no, at least my gown isn’tstolen,” Treena replies. “You’ll probably be in shackles come sunup when your treachery is revealed.”

“I am no thief,” I reply. “I am simply a victim.”

Treena smirks. “A victim? Of what, pray tell us your position?”

“A victim of your cruelty,” I reply. “Much like the mage I saw you taunting while he was in the rack. Set to be flogged come sunup, and you were taunting him.”

Treena shows no remorse or humility. “The way I see it, I was doing him a favor. What other time in his wretched life would he be surrounded by beautiful lasses who were actually paying attention to him, aye? Probably why he was pretending to know magic in the first place, to attract the attention of beautiful maidens.”

My mouth weighs down into a frown and I shake my head. “I suppose you would see it that way.” I fluff my skirts. “But the attention of a beautiful lass is the last thing I need, so unless you’re pointing out that my dress is a vision, you can turn your attentions to another. You see, this gown was a gift graciously shared to me from my grandmother. It once belonged to my mother.”

“Itisa vision,” one of the girl’s says as she glances in Treena’s direction. “Well, it is,” she points out again when Treena huffs an agitated breath.

“Speaking of a vision,” one of the maidens interrupts, “look who is strolling over here. The baker’s son. That man is fiercely handsome. I wonder if he’ll dance with me.”

“See, Milla,” Treena says, “now that is what a gentleman looks like. And he is coming over to speak to us. Step aside, match girl. You may be adorned in finery, but it does not change your station in life.”

My back is to Jordy, my chest swelling with the delicious thrill of what will transpire when I turn around. Treena has needed her comings up for a while, and I relish in giving it to her. I turn around and meet Jordy’s eyes. He ignores Treena and the maidens and takes my hands in his.

“Milla, you are so beautiful. You take my breath away and my heart with it.” Jordy nods his acknowledgment to Treena and the others. “Good evening, ladies.”

Treena’s mouth is agape, her cheeks redder than the over-ripened apple stuck in the roasted pig’s jaws. She turns and walks away in a huff.

“Shall we dance, my lady?” Jordy asks.

I curtsy. “I would be delighted.”

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