Friend

The air was fragrant with the scents of freshly baked bread, colorful blooms, and ripe fruits. Emberline and Elena peeked from window to window at the shops, looking at the variety of clothes on display.

"How much is this one?" Lenny would run her hands across the shiny jewelry. With a sly grin and an air of practiced negotiation, she would turn her attention to the shopkeepers, inquiring about the price of these coveted trinkets. Their answers would make Lenny bulge her eyes out.

"Oh, you won't part with this beauty for a mere fifty pence!" Lenny would exclaim, her voice dripping with feigned astonishment. "But I'll graciously relieve you of it for a generous twenty-five." The shopkeeper would then tell her to keep moving along.

"They have made everything so expensive!" Lenny would seethe into Emberline's ear. They would not walk in a straight line, jumping from one stall to another, examining the jewelry on display. While Lenny admired parasols and haggled over jewels, Emberline diligently approached each stall owner, inquiring about golden lace. Her voice carried the urgency of a seamstress in search of the thread that would bring her vision to life.

"I have a dress I need to make, but it's too fancy, and no lace matches the color," she explained to a shopkeeper, her gaze sweeping over the intricate patterns displayed before her.

"Perhaps I could interest you in our new dresses, young lady?" the shopkeeper would reply, and with a glance at the shop, she would follow Elena into the crowd.

She had expected to find it and make her way to the southern side of the city, which was far too much of a journey to make on a normal day, but she knew she was not going to find what she wanted so easily. On Sundays, Emberline would wind up on the south side of the town, but to no avail. She knew each moment wasn't one to spare selfishly.

Lenny, amid her negotiations, suddenly found herself drawn to a pair of lilac pink shoes, their delicate allure irresistible. She slipped them on, her excitement bubbling over. "Oh, these shoes are simply perfect! They fit me as though they were crafted especially for me!" Her enthusiasm echoed through the shop.

"I have to buy these!" she shouted so Emberline could hear her across the shop.

"Oh, Ms. Spalding, you must give them to me!" Lenny was audibly excited about the shoes.

"Oh dear! If you love them so much, I'll let them off my hands for just two pounds!" the shopkeeper, Ms. Spalding, responded with a gracious offer.

"Two?" Lenny exclaimed. Emberline could hear her cries of protest as she searched through the rainbow of colors, her expression a mixture of determination and frustration.

"Ms. Spalding, you are being unfair with these prices!" Lenny would squabble, visibly on the verge of tears.

"My dear, these are the prices they sell for; I cannot lower them any further," the shopkeeper would tell her.

As soon as Lenny saw Emberline, it was as though a sea of relief washed over her.

"Oh, don't fret, Ms. Spalding," Lenny declared with a hint of mischief in her voice. "Emberline will graciously cover the remainder. I brought only a few pence with me, but I'm certain she'd be delighted to treat me."

"I'm sorry?" Emberline stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and indignation.

"Will you not, Emberline?" she inquired innocently, though the flicker of a sly grin betrayed her true intentions. Emberline was incensed, her mind racing with retorts, but her fury left her speechless. Emberline was aware of the gratitude she owed Elena, but she wasn't aware of the price she had to pay for it. Though she was adamant about paying back in any material way, she was taken aback by her sly demand.

The transaction unfolded before her eyes, and in the end, the lilac pink shoes became Lenny's, while Emberline parted with a significant portion of her money. As they left the shop, Emberline's teeth gritted with pent-up rage, her gaze avoiding Lenny's.

They walked in jagged turns once more, Lenny still browsing and bargaining for trinkets and shoes as if she hadn't spent all of her money on a pair. Emberline's intention to buy lace was completely in ruins. Being dependent on her last few pence, she continued her search, in hopes that her golden lace would be less than what she had.

But it was an unexpected coincidence, or perhaps fate, that she saw a familiar face behind a shoe vendor's shop.

Nicholas leaned over another woman, his hand resting on the wall behind her and his other hand toying with her golden lock of hair. She giggled as he whispered into her ears, and he looked at her with a half-smile.

Lenny had stopped by another shop and didn't notice when Emberline had gone astray. It had been a good two weeks since she had seen him, and yet she was somewhat enthused by the circumstances. A stark contrast to the evident hatred she had felt for him. Emberline kept her gaze on the couple snuggling behind the stall and tried to maintain her secrecy. She walked by the stall and picked on the men's shoes as if she were to wear them to blend into the crowd that buzzed around the stall, but her focus was captured by the conversation that Nicholas had with the woman.

He leaned casually against the wooden booth, his dark eyes alight with a mischievous glint. With a confident grin, he hushed multiple compliments in a single breath, speaking of her with such compelling allure that her heart danced to his every word. "You possess a beauty that rivals the stars themselves," he told her. The girl dipped as she giggled and blushed. "You are not so bad yourself," she told him. The sun dipped low, casting a golden hue upon them, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned in her ear.

"Do you sing?" he asked her keenly.

"No," the woman looked at him with a question. He straightened himself to meet her eye once more.

"You don't sing?" Nicholas's brows furrowed.

"No, I don't," the girl giggled again. Her continuous laughter annoyed Emberline.

"But you have such a lovely voice. If you were ever to take the stage, I'd pay tenfold to hear it again," Nicholas looked at her, with a glimmer in his eyes. The conversation flowed like a river, taking the direction he wanted it to go.

The girl snickered. "How often do you use that one?"

"Believe it or not, the first time," he told her as he traced her jaw with his finger. "I thought I'd take a more traditional route this day."

"And why is that?" she mused.

"I'd like to think it's what you prefer," he said, a breath's distance from her lips.

Emberline was baffled by the sheer ability to communicate something so insulting so seductively, which had the woman completely fooled. She simply looked at him with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

"I can give you something more than words, Alice," he told her, not realizing he had mistaken her for someone else. The girl's brows furrowed with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Nicholas?" she inquired, her voice carrying a hint of challenge, "who's Alice?" His magnetic facade faltered. "Something A, wasn't it? Ariella? Anastasia?" He tried to correct himself, and in that moment of vulnerability, she swiftly delivered a resounding slap that resonated through the wooden stalls. Without another word, she turned and departed, making brief eye contact with Emberline as she rushed away in anger.

Nicholas looked at her as she ran the distance and sighed. "Worth a try," he hummed to himself.

Emberline found herself laughing at him. His charming attempt had failed so miserably that she cupped her lips to maintain silence.

"Madam, does the shoe interest you?" the shopkeeper asked her. Emberline was holding a large men's shoe, one that appeared to be the size of a mammoth. Emberline sheepishly put it back neatly in its place. It must have seemed odd of her to be examining the shoe for such a long while, she thought as she passed a crooked smile at him, making a quick decision to walk away.

She fastened her gait. Her eyes jumped from store to store, all of which had an endless collection of fabric, with women rushing to buy their fit of cloth and shoes. Men entered shops and tried tight collars. Some queued outside the barber shop to get a trim that would make them look no better than before. However, there was no sign of her lace nor her companion Elena. Emberline felt a sudden weight on her shoulders as she felt the same feeling of utter disdain she did before she saw Nicholas. She was lost.

"Excuse me?" someone called, though Emberline would not have been tempted to look if the voice wasn't so familiar.

It was the same heavy voice that spoke so gently to the girl behind the stall. His delicate figure stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd. His auburn hair danced to the wind, the ends of his hair turned yellow under the sunlight, almost like a match on fire. His eyes bore heavy burden, the darkness that encircled his eyes heavily emphasized by the paleness of his face. His eyes drooped almost as though he was still under the effect of alcohol, though he was too well put together for that to be the case. Emberline was mesmerized by the sheer elegance of that man under sobriety. Yet she felt

fear as she watched him animated, and with all the energy that coursed through her, she conjured up the only sensible thought.

Emberline turned on her heels and picked up her pace, gently pushing through the crowds. The clip-clop of her shoes seemed to drown in the chatter of the bustling marketplace. She fled from Nicholas as though he would swallow her whole. Fear fueled her sprint, making her legs burn and her breath come in ragged gasps. She didn't dare look forward, her mind too fixated on the terror she was fleeing. However, her focus was ill-timed.

Emberline's body collided with something solid and unyielding. She stumbled backward, losing her balance and falling to the ground. The man bent, and his thick stack of papers scattered in the air. Emberline, already haunted by the thought of Nicholas, was faced with yet another obstacle.

Professor Charles felt his ears go cold. His hands tried to catch as many pieces of paper from the air as possible, but he couldn't save any from falling onto the ground. Emberline felt a needle prick the brim of her throat, a sensation that came along with guilt. She took to her knees, collecting as many in her hands as she could.

"I am so sorry!" she repeated to the Professor, who seemed to be occupied with collecting any paper that fled too far from the scene.

"I am sorry, I should've kept an eye—I am really sorry!" she repeated to the Professor. He was picking each piece with a concentrated drive, his brows drooped in anger and frustration. Emberline pled guilty with so many apologies, but it made her blush how silent the man before her was.

"I'll pick it up for you," she offered, but he continued. Her skirt was now stained with dust and dirt.

"I didn't know it was you, Professor!" she said in a squeak, her voice now stretched thin.

Charles lifted his gaze only once to look at her, and his eyes remained fixated. His expression remained the same nonetheless, taunting and enraged. The rims of his glasses rested on his nose, which made him look even more offensive. "It's quite alright," he finally spoke, softening his gaze. Emberline was startled by the unexpected gesture after such a long silence.

Emberline was only reminded of her urgent getaway when he smiled. "I was in a hurry," she uttered.

"Are you still in a hurry?" the Professor asked, looking up from the ground and onto Emberline, who seemed baffled by his monotony. Emberline didn't know if it was a good-natured question or if he mocked her audacity. Unable to choose, she simply hummed in response.

"You better get going then," Charles offered. It was as though he was aware of the lack of emotion on his face, thus gently putting up a smile.

Emberline felt herself ease, letting out a breath of relief. "Thank you" was all she could say before she handed him the stack she held in her possession and took to her path.

A subtle smile appeared on his face, tender and warm as he worked on getting back all the documents. It was not a habit to smile.

Nicholas saw the man hunched over, picking up the paper, and his thoughts came to a halt. A ripple went through his cheek. He fell to his knees, gathering the paper along with the Professor. It was as though the Professor recognized the veins on his hands, the shy smile on his cheek replaced by his usual paranoia.

Nicholas was quick, wasting no time in picking each piece and flipping them upward in a neat stack. He stood with the Professor, handing him the neat stack of paper he had collected, his temple strained. The Professor was determined not to let any emotion on display.

"You're welcome," Nicholas said unprovoked before walking into the crowd, his head bobbing singularly as he pushed further into the crowd.

The Professor held tightly onto the documents, determined not to bump into anyone again.