"Your flowers are as beautiful as you are kind." Salviana said loudly drawing attention.
The shopkeeper beamed, and Salviana continued toward the fabric stalls. Jean kept close, her eyes darting between the stalls and the curious onlookers who whispered behind their hands.
They were going embroidery hunting.
They stopped first at a merchant specializing in fine threads and needles. The stall was overflowing with spools of silk in every imaginable color, glinting like jewels in the sunlight. Salviana's eyes widened with delight.
"These are perfect," she murmured, picking up a spool of deep crimson silk. "Jean, what do you think? Should I get the matching gold thread for accents?"
Jean crossed her arms, feigning disinterest. "If you're planning to embroider a royal crest, perhaps. But I'd suggest something simpler for a beginner."
The merchant, a wiry man with sharp eyes, chuckled. "The lady has a good point. Might I recommend this starter set?" He handed Salviana a small box filled with threads in soft pastels, along with a beginner's guide to embroidery.
Salviana nodded appreciatively. "This will do. But I'll still take the crimson and gold."
Jean rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. "You're hopeless."
Next, they visited a stall selling embroidery hoops and fabric. Salviana examined the selection carefully, choosing a sturdy wooden hoop and several swatches of fine linen.
The merchant included a small pair of golden scissors shaped like a bird, which Salviana held up in delight.
"Look at this, Jean! Isn't it charming?"
Jean smirked. "Charming and expensive. Alaric is going to question your spending."
Salviana waved a hand dismissively. "He left me with plenty of wyfins. Besides, he'll approve when he sees my masterpiece."
Jean arched an eyebrow. "Or he'll laugh when he sees you prick your fingers a dozen times."
As they continued their shopping spree, Salviana couldn't resist stopping at a fruit vendor. She picked up a basket of ripe peaches and a pouch of dried figs, handing some to Jean.
"You're spoiling me, Your Grace," Jean teased, biting into a peach.
"Nonsense. We deserve this," Salviana said, savoring a slice of the juicy fruit. "Besides, it's a nice change from palace meals."
They found a shaded bench near a fountain, where they sat to enjoy their snacks. Jean relaxed visibly, her earlier skepticism fading. "I'll admit, this outing isn't so bad."
Salviana grinned. "See? I told you it would be fun."
By the time they returned to the carriage, their arms were laden with supplies: spools of thread, fabric swatches, embroidery hoops, needles, and a small wooden chest for organizing everything.
Manni, the coachman helped them load the items before they settled in for the ride back to the palace.
Jean leaned back with a contented sigh, nibbling on a piece of dried fig. "I have to say, Your Grace, you've made embroidery shopping… an adventure."
Salviana laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "That's the idea. Maybe next time we'll go back for more supplies—or just to browse."
As the carriage rolled through the gates of the palace, Salviana looked out at the marketplace one last time, a sense of satisfaction settling over her.
This had been her second visit, and though Alaric hadn't been by her side, she felt accomplished. Perhaps this small venture would make her new hobby all the more meaningful.
What would she make first? She wondered.
After lunch, Salviana sat before the embroidery hoop she had purchased earlier, her delicate hands fumbling with the needle and thread.
The smooth fabric mocked her efforts as she attempted to mimic the patterns she had seen in tapestries.
Frustrated, she sighed and glanced at Jean, who sat cross-legged on a nearby stool, curiously watching her.
"I don't think I can do this alone," Salviana admitted, her voice carrying a note of defeat. "It's harder than it looks."
Jean leaned forward, inspecting the chaotic tangle of thread. "Well, I'd offer to help, but I don't know the first thing about embroidery."
Salviana looked at her with raised brows. "Not even a little?"
"Not even a little," Jean said with a grin. "I can braid hair, dig up old bones, and find lost treasures, but embroidery? That's a mystery to me."
The absurdity of the statement made Salviana laugh, the sound light and genuine. "Why did I even think you'd know how to embroider? You'd probably end up excavating the hoop for hidden relics."
Jean chuckled, leaning back. "Maybe there's a thousand-year-old secret stitched into the fabric."
Recovering from her laughter, Salviana set the needle down. "I suppose we'll need some guidance. Let's head to the library and find a book on embroidery techniques."
Jean tilted her head. "Why not just ask the queen? Isn't she the most skilled at this sort of thing?"
Salviana shook her head, her lips pressing into a firm line. "No. I want to impress her. Imagine showing her a finished piece without needing her help—it would mean so much more."
Jean smiled faintly, amused by Salviana's resolve. "Alright, your highness. To the library we go."
The two women set off toward the castle's grand library, Salviana leading the way with two guards following close behind.
The halls of Wyfkeep were alive with the faint echo of footsteps and the occasional rustle of servants hurrying about.
Jean chatted idly about her latest discovery in the archives, trying to lighten the mood, when a sudden hush fell over the corridor.
Ahead, a group of elegantly dressed women appeared, their presence commanding the space.
Audrey and Lucille, the king's concubines, swept down the hall like queens in their own right, their intricate gowns shimmering with gold and silver threads.
Trailing behind them were Florence and Irene, their poised and polished daughters-in-law, each accompanied by an entourage of maids and guards.
The air grew heavy with unspoken tension as they approached. Salviana sighed quietly, but Jean narrowed her eyes, her stance immediately defensive.
"Well, well," Audrey drawled, her voice smooth but laced with venom. "The seventh princess graces the halls today. Such a rare sight without her prince by her side."
Salviana met her gaze steadily, her expression calm but unreadable. "Lady Audrey," she said politely, inclining her head.