Post by Euria Saavedra on Aug 2, 2016 20:33:42 GMT -5
The Harvest Festival had begun, tempting Euria to venture out of the Saavedra home and enjoy the varied events offered for those within the city. Mindful to take two of the Saavedra house guards with her - Daario had been explicit on that point - she went to walk through the special market held on the palace grounds. It felt a little strange to her, knowing she had the means to make purchases, coins she was actively encouraged to spend.
Alaia had been less than subtle in her hints that Euria required a far more expansive wardrobe. As a Saavedra, her cousin sniffed proudly, she should look and dress the part, not continue to look like the waif-like laysister Daario had brought home. Euria merely gave her cousin a flat stare, then sighed. She was trying to adjust to life as a young noblewoman, but the transition was hardly proving graceful. Nevertheless, she supposed it would do no harm to look over fabrics and trims in light of the forthcoming feasts, Masquerade (provided Daario allowed them to attend), and the other social events in the future.
Moving along the row of fabric merchants, Euria paused as one bolt in particular caught her eye. It was a lovely shade of coral, if she was any judge of color. She thought she remembered a roll of embroidered trim that would look ideal with it provided she could obtain the fabric first. A finger reached to brush against the bolt, wanting to feel the fabric when her hand was abruptly slapped away and a heavily accented voice barked a rebuke at her. "No touch! You mark the fabric and the ladies do not buy marked bolts!" Muttering to himself in a different language, he shook his head.
Startled, she scowled at the merchant, drawing her abused hand back before she snapped a reply in the same language he'd used. "For your information, I am a lady. I would have bought this fabric, but now... I will not waste my money on so rude and snobbish a man."
The man gaped at her, obviously stunned both by the retort and her knowledge of his language before his temper flared at her insult, making him shout at her while the guards struggled to grasp what was going on when the lady grew pale...
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Zorion Ibarra