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“It would be my pleasure to know my creation will be worn and appreciated by a lovely girl like you.”
Lucia handed the woman three gold coins instead. “Take these and know I will wear it with pride.”
All the old woman could do was stare after her, a gleam of delighted surprise shining in her eyes, as Lucia continued on in her new purchase.
Next, she lingered at a busy stall displaying beaded tunics, all of them far too eye-catching and colorful for anyone in Limeros to wear in public. Still, she found herself drawn to one in particular, soft and tailored to look like a hawk’s silhouette, and ran her fingers along the seam.
Someone bumped into her, and she turned to see a handsome young man with wide shoulders and sparkling eyes. “Oh, apologies,” he said.
She tried to ignore him, turning back to the hawk tunic.
“Lovely shirt,” he said. “Don’t you think? A bit too Auranian for my tastes, though.”
“I don’t much feel like conversation today. You can be on your way.”
“Oh, come on. It’s a beautiful day . . . not as beautiful as you, of course.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Very well, as you wish. But before I go, I need something from you.”
She turned to glare at his smiling face. “What?”
He nodded at her drawstring purse. “That.”
She sighed, feeling sorry for the aspiring thief who chose to bother with her today. “You definitely need to—”
But before she could finish, the man yanked the purse right out of her hand with nearly painful force. She gasped, and he covered her face with his hand and shoved her backward, sending her crashing into the tunic stall.
Then a familiar shroud of darkness descended over her.
She looked up to see the sky quickly clouding over as she rose to her feet, then scanned the crowd for the thief, ready to light him on fire and watch him burn.
He thought he could steal from her?
He would never steal from anyone else ever again.
She had him clearly in her sights, but before she could unleash her magic, the thief tripped and fell, hard, to the ground. Lucia rushed over and joined the crowd forming around him.
A young man wearing a black eye patch stood over the thief, the sole of his boot pressing against the man’s chest. “You know,” he said, leaning over to snatch the purse from the thief’s grip, “you’re the sort of scum who gives all of us Paelsians a bad reputation.”
Lucia’s purse in hand, the young man lifted his boot from the thief’s chest.
“You should learn to mind your own business,” the thief growled as he scrambled to his feet.
“I’ve always been terrible at that. Now go. Before I change my mind.” He removed a dagger with a jeweled hilt from a sheath on his waist and showily spun it around on his hand.
The thief took one brief look at the knife before running off in the other direction.
Lightning crackled in the darkening skies.
The young man with the eye patch looked up then brought his gaze down to Lucia, who drew closer to him. “Seems we’re due for a storm,” he said to her. “You can never tell here in Paelsia. They always come upon us without warning, as if by magic.”
He was young, not much older than her, with dark hair like Magnus’s, though much shorter than her brother’s. His skin was deeply tanned, and his visible eye was a cinnamon shade of brown.
“Are you all right?” he asked, frowning at her silence.
The darkness within her continued to swell, still craving a release.
