“All sold out?” Isolde asks. She’s at the table next to me, selling homemade bread with her daughter Lyris. She didn’t fare as well. I don’t have the heart to tell her, but her bread is always way too dry.
“Almost,” I say, collecting what little I have left. I have to get to the beekeeper to buy some beeswax and to a few butchers who always save me their animal fat.
The beeswax is for the premium candles. Only the nobility, a few wealthy merchants, and the church buy those. The rest of the villagers buy the ones made from animal fat. They don’t burn as clean, but I still work my darnedest to give them a good product.
“I have a few extra,” I say, handing over three long candles—two made from animal fat and one from beeswax. “For being such good neighbors today.”
“Bless you, Morwen,” Isolde says, handing me a loaf of bread. If it’s too dry, I can feed it to my chickens at home.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling as I hold it to my chest.
“I have something else you may like,” Isolde says with a grin.
I glance at her burnt pastries and fight back a wince.I don’t think so…
“A husband.”
“Awhat?!” I choke out in shock.
“Mom!” Lyris says, rolling her eyes. “Will you stop?”
Isolde ignores her. “My nephew Fen. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“Mom, Fen is a total weirdo. Morwen won’t like him.”
I smile at Lyris, thankful she has my back. She must be sixteen years old by now. Far younger than my twenty-eight years, but we single maidens have to stick together. It seems likeeveryone else is always conspiring to get us married. If we want it or not.
“I’m happy as is,” I say, smiling at Isolde. “But if I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”
“Great,” Isolde says. “I’m sure Fen will still be single.”
“Of course he will,” Lyris says, rolling her eyes. “He has sex with goats.”
“Lyris,” Isolde scolds, smacking her arm. “That’s a family secret.”
Oookkkaaayy…
I gather the rest of my gear into a basket and head over to the beekeeper, buying the premium wax he put aside for me.
After that, I’m off to the first butcher—the one who always leaves early for the day. I guess I’m not paying attention, and neither is Matthias, one of the younger kids of the village, and he collides right into me, running full sprint and slamming into my hip like a runaway bull.
“Gods, Matthias!” I shout as I stumble back, spilling my remaining candles on the ground. “Watch where you’re going, boy.”
Damn. Two of my candles broke.
His eyes are wide and his cheeks are red as he watches me collecting my broken inventory.
“I’m sorry, Miss Morwen,” he says, rushing to help me. “I have to get to the sweet pies before they close.”
Most of the adults around here would thrash a boy for that kind of negligence and force him to hand over his money to pay for the broken candles, but I’m not like that. Maybe I’m just soft when it comes to these kids. That’s what happens when you babysit half the village. They all start to feel like your own.
“Well, you’d better get going,” I say, handing him the broken candles. “Before the last one is gone. And give these to your mother.”
He wraps his arms around my legs and gives me a big hug. “Thank you, Miss Morwen,” he says before running off.
A tiny bit of my heart goes along with him as I watch his little legs moving as fast as they can. I can’t help but laugh. He didn’t learn his lesson at all.
That little voice comes into my head, butting into my quiet, peaceful life once again.
