Chapter 25 Village life
"Thank you, Mrs. Kate!” Lyriel beamed, torn between hugging the woman or kissing her in gratitude. In the end, she settled for a quick peck on her cheek and ran off joyfully.
Mrs. Kate blushed as she watched the girl disappear down the path and waved after her.
“Pretty girl!”
Lyriel returned to Mr. Clement’s home and paused by his door, carefully separating ten coins from the sixty Mrs. Kate had given her. She slipped them into her dress pocket before stepping inside. Handing the remaining fifty coins to Mr. Clement, she watched as he counted out ten and passed them back to her. It was part of their agreement—twenty percent of every earning belonged to her.
Lyriel smiled to herself. She now had twenty coins of her own, and she hadn’t even gone to the market yet. Fruit selling was truly a sweet business.
With Mr. Clement’s help, a large basket of fruit was placed on her head. Lyriel winced immediately—the weight was no joke.
“How about I help you reduce the number of fruits?” Mr. Clement suggested.
“No, don’t worry about me,” Lyriel said quickly.
“Are you sure? Even I felt how heavy it was...”
But she wouldn’t hear another word. Turning toward the door, she straightened despite the burden.
“Take care, Mr. Clement. I’ll see you in the evening,” she said, and stepped outside.
Though she liked the impressive amount of fruit she was taking to the market, the basket was undeniably heavy—and she knew it. Still, stubborn pride kept her from leaving any behind. She was in a self-made competition with Mira and wanted to win at all costs.
By the time she reached the bustling market, her steps had quickened, as she could barely feel her neck at that moment. Some villagers gazed at her, surprised that Lyriel had finally made fruit selling her business. Looking at her, one would think she didn’t belong to such a village life—she looked soft and delicate.
Her eyes caught sight of Mira at her usual stall, calling out lazily to passersby. Lyriel walked past her as though she didn’t exist and asked another vendor for help lowering the basket from her head. Mr. Clement’s stall sat directly beside Mira’s, and the thrill of it sent a quiet satisfaction through her.
“Thank you, sir,” Lyriel said as the basket was set down.
“How is Mr. Clement?” the man asked.
“He’s doing well—though still very much an old man,” Lyriel replied with a smile.
“So you’re working for him now?”
Lyriel laughed lightly. She wanted the conversation to end quickly. She was certain Mira was listening, and she refused to appear like a mere helper selling fruit that wasn’t hers.
“Not exactly. He’s my business partner. We have an...agreement.”
“That’s admirable,” the vendor said, clearly impressed. “If you need anything, just come to me.”
“Thank you,” Lyriel replied.
She watched the vendor walk back to his stall and sighed. “Now... where do I begin?”
She pulled a rag from the basket and wiped down the dusty table before arranging the fruits neatly, each heap placed with care. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Mira watching, but she didn’t greet her. Mira had already proven what kind of friend she was.
“Hello, Lyriel!” A customer waved.
Lyriel’s face lit up. “Hello! What would you like?” Her first true customer of the day, and it hadn’t even been five minutes. A good sign, indeed!
“Cherries. Give me ten coins’ worth.”
And just like that, her business began. Customers came and went.
Lyriel called out cheerfully to passersby, her voice sweet and playful.
“Hey, beauty!”
“Goddess!”
“Handsome man!” and whatever else came to her mind.
She joked with them, laughed openly, especially with the young men, who lingered longer than necessary. It worked like magic, and by noon only a few fruits remained.
She gazed at Mira, who sat quietly, waiting for customers. She had sold only a few fruits and still had heaps left. Lyriel sighed. Now she understood why Mira had been jealous of her initially. But the girl wasn’t putting in any effort to sell—she just sat there all day, staring at people as they walked by. That was so unlike Mira, she was the liveliest human Lyriel had ever met.
Lyriel sighed again. She was in a dilemma and didn’t know whether to mind her business, or approach Mira and ask what was wrong. She chose the former and remained in her stall. If Mira really wanted someone to talk to, she would come on her own—and she must apologize first.
By evening, Lyriel had finished selling all her fruits and began gathering her things and putting the stall in order so she could leave. Mira still had many fruits on her table and would probably have to take them home. She pretended not to care as she walked past Mira’s stall on her way home.
Lyriel hummed as she crossed the market square, excitement bubbling inside her. The day had been perfect—more perfect than most. She wished Eli had been there to see it, to witness how the villagers admired her. She was no stranger to attention. In Eloria, everyone knew her—she was the heir to the Throne of Light. But here, in this small village, she was admired simply for being herself.
She wondered why.
She walked past a stall, lost in her own little world, but suddenly paused as realization struck her. She turned back to the stall. The vendor waved at her, but she hadn’t stopped for him—something standing outside his stall had caught her attention.
It was a long sheet of glass that reflected whatever stood before it. She could see herself fully through it. When was the last time she had looked at her reflection? She couldn’t remember. The only way she had ever seen herself was by gazing into rivers. But this—this was glass, and she could see her reflection clearly. It was indeed the greatest magic she had ever seen.
“Do you want to buy the mirror?” the vendor asked politely as he watched Lyriel stand too close to it, even touching it curiously.
“Mirror?” Lyriel echoed. “So that’s what it’s called?” she asked, surprised at how humans could craft such a material.
The vendor narrowed his eyes at her, wondering how she had never heard of a mirror or known what it meant. Perhaps she wasn’t just from the north— she lived deep within the forest itself.
“Yes! And it costs one hundred coins.”
The admiration in Lyriel’s eyes quickly turned into a frown as she raised her head to look at the vendor. The vendor stared back, unsure what he had done wrong.