“Matthew,” I said, taking his hand in mine. I squeezed it tightly. “I appreciate your concern, but I will be fine. And the king
will be none the wiser.”
Winking at him, I let go of his hand and headed into the tavern. Watching from the entrance doorway, I saw Matthew
straighten out his shirt and then headed back towards the committee building. Turning around to look at everyone inside the
tavern, I smiled softly at the sight. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Either drinking, singing a few songs—rather poorly—or laughing with friends. I finally managed to spot Marcus between
the many bodies. He sat at the bar, laughing, and smiling at the barmaid as she leaned forward and topped off his drink. He
didn’t notice me, and it was nice to see how much he was enjoying himself.
It would be rude to disturb him just yet.
Turning on my heels, I headed back outside while I lifted my hood up over my hair. I didn’t want to be spotted as I headed
in the direction of the main square near where I bumped into Lord Cole last time I was here.
Window shopping was something Talia and I would do when we were younger. I walked past many shop windows, each
decorated beautifully for the festival. A mixture of sun catchers and stars danced against the glass. The theme sunshine and
starlight were the best yet.
It gave everyone a chance to be creative and put their own spin on the theme. They could mix up the decorations, or they
could decorate purely with sunshine or starlight. The choices were endless. I loved seeing how everyone seemed to decorate
and claim the theme as their own.
“A fruit for my lady!” shouted a merchant as I walked past his stall.
His smile beamed at me as he held out a bright red apple. I shook my head, thanking him before I continued on my way. I
stopped at a stall filled with crystals, psychic cards, and potions. Magic was few and far between in this part of the world.
Only a select few were gifted with the ability, and even then, it was rare.
“Good afternoon, your highness.”
The elderly female merchant nodded at me as she polished a piece of crystal and gestured for me to sit at her table. I didn’t
hesitate, as I was a big believer in mystics. Sitting down as comfortably as I could, I watched as she placed the crystal down.
She pulled out a pack of cards from her cloak pocket while simultaneously brushing a strand of loose black hair back behind
her ear.
“How did you know it was me?” I asked.
“I have the gift of sight and felt your aura as you stepped in. I sense you are troubled.”
I laughed a little, assuming the bags under my eyes were what gave me away. Most people didn’t believe in magic or those
gifted with the sight. They believed they were usually con artists who knew how to read people and watch their movements. I