Like a 1950s cartoon thief, Aria hoisted her sack of loot over her shoulder, watching her parents' carriage rumble out of the house.
Her Father to gamble and stepmother to charm more loans out of their friends, most likely.
With the aid of a reluctant Jem, she arrived at the common market with all the valuable trinkets Aria was able to rustle to the common market.
[Haha, this is so sad]
"Shut up."
The bustling market hummed with the life of the yells of children, loud vendors, rattling carts, and cows.
The Sweet Tang of roasted meats and sweets filled the air.
Aria had arrived early enough to pick an accessible stall, laying out the family heirlooms she'd hidden from everyone: silver candlesticks, Ruby rings, pearl earrings, even an assortment of herbs and various common knick-knacks.
In the corner, Jem stood, watching with part disbelief, part annoyance.
Pauper duchess or not, if anything happened to the lady under his watch, he would be prosecuted.
But Aria was unbothered as she called attention to her wares loudly.
The hours passed, and the watchful Jem was already dozing off while Aria was 345 gold crowns richer and her stall was nearly empty.
"Three hundred crowns already earned. Not enough to put a dent in our debt, but it is a start…" She shook the coin purse, satisfied with its jingle.
There was a sudden commotion, and towards the end of the market, people clamored around a figure, including fawning, well-dressed ladies.
"Oh no….."
The figure in the center was Seraphina Voss. The paramour of the Prince's eyes.
Aria pulled her hoodie up, hoping to avoid her attention as the crowd came closer.
"Oh! I hear the prince is taking you for tea at the Petal house today, is that true?"
A lady whose head seemed bigger than necessary bubbled in excitement.
" Of course! Not my first choice, but we need to show the public…."
Her voice trailed off as her gaze fixed on Aria's stall in sharp recognition.
"Shit. This bitch has sharp eyes."
Well, no use hiding now. She took off her hoodie, her gaze landing on Seraphin, who snapped her lace fan shut with a flourish.
"Well, well, well!" She called, her voice loud enough for anyone in the vicinity.
In the corner of her eye, Jem hid himself in the carriage. Coward.
"If it isn't the beggar duchess come to sell her trinkets. Her fan waved over her herbs, knocking some of them into the dusty ground.
"How adorable and undignified. Working hard to pay off your family debt?"
Her companions tittered.
"Be careful, Lady Seraphina, she looks savage."
[Now would be a good time to use me.]
Aria rejected that suggestion. She didn't need a book to take the likes of her down.
Aria straightened her posture, standing tall.
"Seraphina, I must say–that's a lovely emerald necklace. But the glow…it doesn't catch in the light like a real one would," she made sure her voice carried.
Seraphina's eyes narrowed, wondering what game this wretch of a duchess was up to.
"The boldness of you to insinuate that my jewelry is fake when your estate is crumbling to dust."
Her companions laughed.
Aria raised her voice just enough for everyone close by to hear.
" I agree! But I'll admit it is bold to lecture me on undignified behavior while wearing a fake. We can ask an appraiser to take a quick look if you want."
Seraphina's smug smile cracked, and her companions exchanged looks.
A fur vendor nearby chuckled, and Seraphina sent him a withering look.
The crowd was beginning to shift, and sensing it, the Seraphina turned around in a huff.
"Let's go, girls. Before we pick up any diseases here."
Aria hummed as they left, feeling inward relief.
She counted her money obsessively.
Now 390 crowns.
Enough to feed a family of four
for a month.
Or buy decent crop seeds.
She was too lost in thought to immediately notice the presence that shadowed her stall.
"Not even worth a thousand crowns, I see," the deep, smooth voice was mocking.
Aria snapped up her head.
He placed a single bronze coin on her table.
She looked up at the hooded figure, straining against the gasp of surprise: Caspian.
The familiar scent of his leather and cedarwood filled the air around her.
Aria pressed her lips flat, cautious to keep her tone even.
"What can I get you, my Prince?"
"My messenger told me you crumbled my letter."
Aria raised a brow.
"So?"
He seized her roughly by the arm.
"What exactly are you playing at? And playing merchant, like it–"
He halted, noticing the reddened bruise on her left cheekbone.
He grabbed her chin, pulling her close.
"Who did this?" His voice was low and rough.
It was swollen, and the mark looked a day old by the look of it.
"What does it matter to you?"
Defiance shone in Aria's moss-green eyes, her heartbeat quickening.
Caspian jaw ticked. She was right. Why did it matter to him? Seeing her injured face, he only reacted by instinct.
Gently, his thumb brushed over her skin, and heat flared. His gaze dropped to her soft lips, lingering as if under a trance before he snapped back to reality.
He let her go, and Aria wiped her face, glaring at him.
"Go to Seraphina. She's looking forward to seeing you."
He regarded her silently. A smidge of guilt flickered in his grey eyes, and he sucked in a sharp breath before drawing his hood up and disappearing back into the crowd
"Stay out of trouble," he warned.
************************************************
Back in Ravensdale, as the skies shifted from light blue to burnt gold, Aria arrived at the mansion, handing fifty crowns to Jem, whose eyes gleamed.
"Find me in one hour. Remember, no one can see us."
He nodded, urging the horses towards their stable to feed them.
For all his objections yesterday, he seemed to have made peace with sneaking the duchess into a gambling house.
He looked resigned, in fact.
Aria's pouch jangled as she slipped into the East side of Ravensdale to the old family forge.
The wooden entrance was slightly open, and with a kick, the door fell, raising thick dust.
" Ack! Ack!" It filled her lungs as she wiped her face.
[Uh-oh….this is worse than I expected.]
There the forge stood, strong and large, but she was greeted by a cold hearth, empty tool racks, piled up wood and rusted anvils.
"System."
[Ready?]
"Yes. Give me Beat the Dealer."
Pop! The book appeared, landing on the grimy-covered floor.
She picked it up as information flooded in.
Basic strategy. Positive-expectations. Card counting. Math equations. Spotting tells.
"Whoa! This one felt really incredible!"
[It's the effect of pileup knowledge. You're getting smarter every day.]
"Not to brag, but I do feel smarter," Aria nodded with a self-satisfied smirk.
"Who are you talking to, my lady?
Jem's shadow darkened the entrance, startling her as he appeared.
"I was talking to myself? Who else?"
Jem shook his head, deciding it was less stressful not to question it.
" Tell me again, Jem. I spent most of my days in bed, sick. What happened to this forge? It used to be so profitable.
"Oh? I thought you knew. After your mother, Lady Rosa, passed away and Madam Isolde came in. She stopped paying them, saying they took too much money and hired day working contractors.
But they did shoddy work, which caused the forge to close."
Aria tapped the anvil, thinking hard.
"I checked the records. This was too valuable to shut down. Harvest season is close, and there are rumours of the army going to fight in the eastern territory."
Jem raised a brow.
"So what are you saying, my lady?"
"We could restart it. Make tools at first to sell to outlying farms. We could hire the family's old workers. Make scythes, hoes, sickles, hammers and nails. Trinkets too, simple necklaces, brooches and rings.
Weapons to the local guards."
"And the semi-precious metals?" He interrupted her mad rambling.
" Worker'sSalaries? Permission from your parents? Have you forgotten that your present workers quit every day from lack of pay?"
Jem shook his head vigorously at the ludicrous idea.
She smiled faintly.
"Why do you think we're going gambling?"
"About that, my lady, I'm still not sure–"
"Enough, Jem."
His lips pursed together in frustration, raking fingers through his greasy hair.
"The best place to rake in cash or lose it is the black dice."
His eyes roved over her, wondering what new madness this was.
"They don't take in women. Dress like a man. You certainly are tall enough for it."
With that, he turned to leave.
"I hope you know what you're doing, my lady."
As Aria walked back to her room, she avoided the servants. Affixing a note to her door that ordered anyone who came looking for her to stay away for fear of catching a cold.
Below her window, an impatient figure walked in circles on the grass
Aria smiled, finishing up her disguise in front of the mirror: Loose black trousers, hair bound under her hooded cloak, letting the outside fall.
She had smeared a bit of dirt
on her face from her potted plants, wearing her father's stolen leather gloves and his boots.
She found Jem downstairs.
"The horses are waiting," Jem whispered.
Quickly, they slipped out and away, riding away on prepared horses into the dark.