Post by Angelia Sandoval on Apr 28, 2015 21:52:51 GMT -5
Angelia slipped out of the house, careful not to wake either slowly rousing servants or slumbering siblings, desirous to enjoy the hush of early morning and seek the freshest and best fruits available at the markets. There was a craving in her for what reminded her of home, especially the black-speckled white flesh of a fruit with its exotic green and light red rind. The fruit had a rich texture and subtle fragrance, something that inevitably reminded her of Nacimiento. Despite the reality of what lay ahead of them in the city of Bordelaix, there remained a part of her that longed to return to the north and the elegant castle that was home to the Sandovals.
The air was soft, a promise of storms to come later in the day as the sun rose in a panoply of red and gold in the east. She made her way through largely silent streets, dressed simply with her dark hair loose and a basket on her arm, looking no different from any of those who ventured from the varied homes of the city's residents in search of something at the markets. Trusting that she was unknown by sight to those who had an interest in removing her from the chessboard, Angelia walked at a leisurely pace, content in her own company and the prospect of taking in the market's offerings without interruption or concern for others with her.
A soft smile curved her lips at the first sight of the markets spread before her. Already, the squares teemed with activity as merchants hastened to open their shops and stalls or guided their carts into place for the start of another day's business, and buyers filtered in to peruse the diverse offerings. Pausing by a flower-seller, she exchanged a small coin for a little cluster of her favorite flowers. Taking a sprig of the blue freesia, she tucked it into her hair, amused at herself as she paused to gain her bearings and orient herself with how the markets were arranged.
Spotting the fruit sellers, Angelia strolled down to where they were set up, noting the broad variety of produce on display. Shiny green apples, plump and glossy grapes, rich blackberries and the last of the sweet peaches, the scents rose to tempt her nose, yet she was on a mission to find the fruit she wanted. Halting at one, she surrendered to temptation, selecting a few peaches for Maricela, her sister's favorite, and then some raspberries for Sebastian as well before her gaze fell on the exotic fruit that was her morning's errand. Delighted, she went to inspect the collection and select the finest as she brought the fruit to her nose, the better to test the fragrance.
Perfect...
Bashir ibn Qasim al-Khalid