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“To the town square in Artis, miss?”
For an instant, I hesitate. I know how a carriage like this—even asmallcarriage—will be seen in Artis. I know how a young woman in a fancy dress will be seen.
I remember howIwould have looked at someone like that.
The driver is peering at me. “Miss?”
“I … yes.” I hesitate, then climb up. The driver clucks to the horse, and we’re off, bouncing along the cobblestones.
In the Royal Sector, no one pays me any mind, because carriages like this are common. It’s not until we pass through the main gates into the poverty-stricken villages of the Wilds that I become aware of the people who stop to stare. Most of the looks are curious, attention drawn by something shiny and fast.
But some of the looks are hostile. A few heads shake disgustedly. A mother pinches her daughter on the arm for staring, then turns her own glare on me while she shakes out her laundry.
No, no, I want to call.I’m not one of them. I’m one of you.
But of course I can’t.
The driver misunderstands my silence. “Don’t worry, miss,” hecalls over the sound of the horse’s hooves clopping along the path. “No one will trouble you.”
“I’m not worried,” I say back, but my voice is lost in the wind and the sound of the horse.
Once we make it through the dense forests of the Wilds, the streets of Artis are more crowded, and the buggy has to slow to a walk. There are more horse-drawn vehicles here, hauling wagons of cargo from the docks. It’s a warm day, so many children are gathered by the fountain in the center of the town square, splashing each other with water while they shriek with laughter. I garner stares here, too, but nothing quite as hostile as in the Wilds.
We pull up along the front of Woolfrey’s, and for the first time, I notice the chips in the pink paint surrounding the doorframe, or the broken bricks forming the walkway. The wood around the window is weathered and aged, and the window is cracked in the corner. Little imperfections I’ve never noticed before, but suddenly seem glaringly obvious when compared with the brilliant perfection of the Royal Sector.
The driver leaps down to offer me his hand, and I feel a bit foolish taking it. I used to climb the wall surrounding the Royal Sector, and I never gave it a second thought. Now I’m taking a hand to step down from a buggy. Everything from the Royal Sector always seems to be an illusion.
“Shall I tether the horse and wait, miss?” the driver says to me.
“Oh! I—” I break off. I can see Karri’s silhouette inside the confectioner’s shop. A man nearby sighs heavily, trying to navigate his fully loaded wagon around the buggy that’s stopped, obtrusively, quite in the middle of the road. “No,” I say. “I’ll be fine.”
The driver looks dubious. “Are you certain?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. I’m capable of walking back. Now that I feel everyone’s eyes on me, I almost wish I’d walkedhere.
Karri appears in the doorway of the confectioner’s. “Tessa!” she cries, and there’s no mistaking the delight in her voice. “You came!”
She strides forward, and I gratefully accept the hug she offers. She’s warm and familiar and she smells like the vanilla and brown sugar wafting from the candy shop.
“Of course I came,” I say.
She stands back, holding me by the shoulders. “You look sofine. I hardly recognized you in the palace.”
I flush, more embarrassed than pleased. “I should have changed. I just didn’t want to make you wait.”
“No! You look beautiful! I just got here anyway.”
Oh. I’m an idiot. Becauseshehad to walk.
I tug at the bodice of my dress, more uncomfortable now. “I’m just trying to fit in. The palace physicians hardly take me seriously as it is.”
Karri hesitates, and for a moment, I think it’s going to be uncomfortable betweenus. But she nods decisively. “That’s their loss, then. Come inside. The chocolate is fresh.” She hooks her arm through mine. “I’m so glad you came. I was …” Her voice trails off a bit. “I was so worried.”
“I’m still your friend,” I say quietly.
“And I’m still yours.” She gives my arm a squeeze. I squeeze back and smile.
Some of the tightness in my chest eases. I was right. We can figure out a way to make this work. She and I. Together. We don’t need these arrogant men to get in the way of trulyhelpingpeople.
