Castien unwound the pouch from around his waist and passed it to his sibling along with a few instructions. He promised to beback in time for them to eat lunch, and then he led me out of the stall.
We walked a few paces in silence. My palms were sweating, and I wiped them on my trousers. I needed to say something, to break through the discomfort. I swallowed hard. “Thank you,” I finally managed. It was hardly the wittiest of conversation starters, but I was not known for my wit.
“Thank me after we’ve found what you’re looking for.” We walked a few more paces, past a Gearwick booth that sold corrective glass lenses for elves whose eyesight was not as good as it should be. The wonders of Gearwick innovation and technology would never cease to amaze me. In the village I’d grown up in, one simply found a way to adjust to the faded vision. “What are you looking for?”
I thought for a moment. I had given it some thought, though it was always fantasy. In my fantasies, I imagined someone who did not exist. Someone who was smart and kind, someone who made me laugh, someone with strong arms and warm eyes. I imagined someone who could warm even Mother and Father’s hearts. I wanted someone I could grow with, and I needed someone who could be patient with me and my shortcomings.
I had imagined the shallower things as well: the color of their eyes or the shape of their body. I imagined the feel of their body and the warmth of their skin, but I knew that those things were not required for a sound marriage. Of course, I would need to feel attracted to them, but I was attracted to a great many people. I had known the touch of many elves, but I had not felt that more important spark in my heart.
And that was the answer. It was what I was looking for.
“I want a spark,” I told him slowly. “I want someone who is kind and caring, but those can be a dime a dozen. My dream spouse would be someone who challenges me, but who is patient if it takes time to rise to those challenges. I need someone whowill accept my shortcomings, because I have a great many. I want someone that I can build a future and a family with.”
“And you need marriage to build a family and a future?”
“I want one.”
I knew that it was not required. There was a family that lived near me in Emberleigh who had three children but no marriage certificate. The two wives looked at each other with great love, and they loved their children. I had asked them once why they did not marry, and they said they did not want it. One of the wives had been married before, and her partner had died. She did not wish to dishonor his memory by marrying another person, but her heart had taken flight upon seeing her wife.
I did not think it would be a dishonor to his memory, and I’d known others in my boyhood village who had married again when their first spouse had passed.
I supposed it was a matter of personal opinion. “Do you not want to ever get married?” I asked Castien, curiosity getting the better of me.
“It is not my priority.”
“What is?”
“My business and my inventions. My studies and my family.”
I recalled his father, years ago, sending him from the stall to go forth and explore. He had been focused on drawing in his little book instead of meeting other elves, focused on his studies then as he was now. “Do you not crave love?” He shook his head. “Are you against it finding you?”
“If it is meant to find me, then there is nothing I can do to stop it. I’m not fighting against the Gods when it comes to matters of the heart, but I am not seeking it either.”
I supposed he had enough going on in his life to have this view. I worked various jobs for my coin, but I had no real ambition. I did not have the skill to advance any further than menial tasks. The clothing shops I sometimes assisted did enjoy having methere, though, as I knew clothing and colors and had always been good at flattering other elves. It was among my favorite jobs, so long as I did not have to do sums or keep track of anything.
“What are your inventions? Timepieces?”
I noticed the way his posture changed. His shoulders slumped and then straightened, as if he were bracing for impact from something. His eyes went down to his feet and then back up to me. He drew in a deep breath, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. I looked at him expectantly, and finally he spoke. “Timepieces, yes, but my primary inventions are…” His cheeks colored, and I was taken aback by how gorgeous he looked with color on his face. “Pleasure devices.”
I blinked. “Pleasure devices?” My mind filled with images of bedroom toys past lovers had used on and with me. The image was soon replaced by one of him using one on me. “Like—” It was my turn for heat to rise through my body and land on my ears.
“Sexual pleasure, yes.” He said it simply, a statement of fact. “They are a very popular seller, especially here.”
I could imagine why. New marriages were being formed, and surely there were old marriages that were wishing to add variety to their bedroom. And I doubted that anyone took issue in purchasing it from someone who looked like him.
The silence between us felt warmer than it had before, and I was suddenly reminded of that thick warmth on the riverbank, the way it reminded me of my favorite quilt. I needed to change the topic. We were not here for me to imagine him and his devices. We were here to find my future spouse, and we needed to get on that. It would not be a good first impression on the person I married if I was thinking of someone else when I met them.
I had to clear my head and steer the conversation to less dangerous waters. I needed to focus on the task at hand, on thegoal I’d set for the week I would be spending at Everend Market. “Where should we begin?”
“The Pavilion,” he declared without a second of thought. I must have looked at him questioningly, because he elaborated further. “I have been at market for several years. A lot of people who’ve met their partners here have met them at the Pavilion. It would be a good place to start, far less intimidating than Lover’s Lane.”
Just the name Lover’s Lane seemed intimidating, so I chose to believe him. Besides, as he said, he’d been at Everend Market many times. I’d only been the once, and I’d been too young to follow the intricate steps of courtship. I had been too young to care about them. It wasn’t even until then that I’d felt the early stirrings of attraction for another person. I nodded my agreement, and we went off toward the Pavilion.
As we walked, he told me about some of the improvements he’d made to his father’s earlier designs in timepieces. He had a natural talent for cogs and gears, and he’d learned ways to make them keep turning much longer than a standard timepiece would. When I hinted that it might be magic, he seemed reluctant to label it as such. He preferred to call it science, and if that was his preference, then I could respect it.
He asked me about my jobs, though they were far less exciting than anything he offered. I was telling him about the clothing shop I worked at in exchange for some coin and new garments as we entered the Pavilion itself. Elves milled around, but my attention was on Castien. I told him about the shopkeeper, an older elf from Emberleigh who knew which herbs and plants and berries made the best dyes. “She has a book like yours,” I told him, indicating the leather-bound book tucked in his waistband. “Is that the same one you had when we met?”
“No,” he told me with an amused smile. “I have had many since that book. I fill at least two or three every year, more sometimes.”
