Chapter 41 Soft Hands
Chapter 41 Soft Hands
Lyriel left Hugo's house after a while, pushing a cart filled with fruit all the way to the market.
Her mind wandered to the conversation she had with Hugo. She still couldn't believe that everything he had told her was true. Had Eli really been sold into slavery? What had actually happened to him? Who were the Sumerians in the first place? So many questions ran through her mind that she began to wonder which of the tales she had heard from Fabian and Hugo would weigh more heavily on her heart... Well... it was definitely going to be Fabian's frightening tales about the Watchers and demons. In fact, she didn't even want to think about that.
The cart hit a large stone on the ground, and she gripped the handles tightly to prevent it from tipping onto its side. It took all her strength to finally steady the cart, and she sighed in relief. Hugo had warned her repeatedly not to carry too much fruit on the cart, as it would be too heavy for her to push, but she had been stubborn as always. She had told him, "The more fruit I take to the market, the more money I earn." She had said that in the hope of earning enough money to rent a place where she could live for a while.
So Hugo had allowed her to do whatever she pleased. But just as she reached the entrance to the market, she encountered a slight elevation, and no matter how hard she tried to maneuver the cart, she simply couldn't get it past the entrance. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, gripping the handles on either side of the cart before pushing with all her strength, yet it was futile. Now she could truly feel the strain, as sweat dripped endlessly from her forehead and her muscles began to tremble.
She watched helplessly as the other traders effortlessly pushed carts five times heavier than hers. They didn't even glance at her or offer to help her get past the obstacle.
“Out of the way!” they yelled as they hurried past her. They believed that such a small load shouldn't even be a problem for a seller who truly wanted to make money, rather than laze around with soft hands.
She muttered, “Sorry,” each time before finally shifting her cart away from the middle of the road.
She stood still for a moment, wiping the sweat from her face. Why today, of all days, when she had managed to bring such a large amount of fruit to the market for sale? What sort of frustration was this?
The villagers had begun to notice her struggling with all her strength just to get the cart over the slight elevation. One by one, people stopped what they were doing, turning to watch her in amusement.
She had become such a spectacle that a lady with very fair skin, dressed in a bright red gown, idly fanned herself as she watched Lyriel struggle. Unable to suppress her amusement, she called out,
“Someone should help this poor girl. She'll break in two at this rate. This burden is too much for her.”
Her friend beside her burst into laughter at the remark, and the lady laughed along, as did the people watching. It was as though laughter had spread like a mocking plaque, infecting everyone around them.
Lyriel paused immediately and stared at the two ladies, fuming at the way they laughed. They were dressed in expensive clothing and carried themselves with an air of elegance, so she deduced that they were probably from wealthy families and were not from the village. They had probably never even touched a cart before, yet they had the nerve to mock her.
Well, such wealth and elegance meant nothing to Lyriel. After all, she was the royal princess of the Fae kingdom. She possessed all sorts of treasures and rare gemstones those girls had probably never even seen before.
Nevertheless, embarrassment flooded her cheeks, and she wished she could teach those girls a lesson they would never forget.
She huffed and returned her gaze to the cart, calculating how she would get it past the obstacle. She lifted the handles and pushed again with all her might. It moved forward a little before rolling back down again. Lyriel would definitely break into tears at this rate.
“She won't feel the pain now, not until she gets back home,” the lady's friend added, and they laughed all over again.
Lyriel eventually got the cart past the elevation and continued toward her stall, while everyone returned to their own business.
She sighed.
“Good morning, my lady!”
Lyriel heard a playful voice behind her and jolted as she turned to see Fabian.
“You again!” she frowned.
Fabian chuckled at her outburst and stepped beside her, looking directly into her face.
“You don't seem happy to see me.”
“No, I'm not. Now go away.”
“What did I do to make you so angry with me?” he asked, tilting his head.
Lyriel didn't spare him a glance. Instead, she tightened her grip on the cart and tried to push past him. Seeing this, Fabian immediately ran ahead and stood in front of the cart, preventing her from moving any farther.
“Move aside, Fabian! Or I'll crush you to death!” she yelled.
Fabian placed a hand over his heart, narrowing his brows in feigned disappointment.
“I didn't know you could be this feisty.”
“Just remain standing there and see what I'll do to you,” Lyriel retorted. Fabian would definitely lose his legs after she was through with him.
“Are you really going to kill me?” he teased as he watched Lyriel pull the cart backward to gain momentum. He could already guess exactly what she intended to do.
She didn't reply. Instead, she charged the cart toward him. Fabian didn't move but stood there in amusement at the force her fragile hands could produce. She really was determined to run him over. Did she truly hate him that much?
Lyriel rammed the cart into his leg, and he winced before falling to the ground. Luckily for Lyriel, none of her fruit fell out of the cart.
Fabian collapsed dramatically onto the ground, groaning as though his leg had been crushed. The fact that he was so obviously pretending instantly fueled Lyriel's anger. She hadn't even hit him that hard.