The Maiden and Her Monster by Maddie Martinez

Author:Maddie Martinez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

CHAPTER

21

The merchants outfitted the streets with the vibrant colors of their goods. Wood trinkets painted with every color dye, silk scarves glistening in the rare glimpse of sun. Piles of fruits and vegetables balanced precariously in wooden baskets, shaded by a marketer swatting flies away and grumbling.

Malka’s eyes caught on a wood-framed portrait. It was a detailed rendering of a man striding confidently on his horse, garbed in slate-colored armor, holding a string of gilded prayer beads. On this merchant’s cart were several depictions of the same man.

“Who’s this?” she asked.

“That’s King Manek,” Nimrah whispered close to her ear, face barely visible beneath her cloak. Her skin heated where Nimrah’s breath touched. “King Valski’s father and the Holy Imperial Leader.”

“Is it common to have a painting of a king in your home?”

Nimrah chuckled. “He’s romanticized. When he ruled, Ordobav became more powerful than it had been for centuries. More people could afford to travel to the southern silk market and buy finery. He founded the University of Valón—the first in the kingdom. Elders miss that time, and have taught their children to miss it, too, even though they didn’t experience it.”

Malka considered that. How it slotted into her own stories of Valón’s greatness.

They passed another vendor, their cart draped with furs. It reminded Malka of the Eskraven traders who would buy them in bulk for Eskravé’s shektal market. She scrunched her brows. “Chaia, how did no Eskraven merchants see you at all the past year?”

Chaia’s mouth dipped into a weak frown. “I was encouraged to purposefully hide from them, so I stayed home the days the Eskraven merchants came. Their visits had become so infrequent, I should’ve known something was wrong. I didn’t—”

The full-bodied roar of a horn pierced the air, drawing the attention of the street.

Malka expected to see a knight or an announcer, but it was just a man standing on an empty cart, forehead gleaming with sweat, instrument held to his mouth.

“Hajek is dead!” he proclaimed. “They’ve killed him!”

In the space of a breath, the man was knocked to the ground by a guard, then hounded by another. As more people ran to him, the less Malka could see.

A hand wrapped around her arm. “Come on,” Chaia said, her previous thoughts forgotten. “We need to hurry.”

In one last look back at the brawl, she saw red.

“What was that?” Amnon asked once they spilled into the shop Chaia carted them into. “Who is Hajek?”

“He’s a reformer. A preacher. He used to teach with Vilém at the university before he was expelled for his critique of the Church’s collection of indulgences.”

“And now he’s dead?”

“It would seem that way.”

“You don’t seem surprised,” Nimrah added.

“I can’t say that I am.” She motioned to them. “Come, I’ll explain.”

The dress shop was filled with layers and layers of fabric covering every wall. Protruding from the corner, a roaring hearth with bubbling cauldrons. Tinctures of berries and flowers littered a worktable, most likely used for dyes. Clasps and needles were thrown haphazardly around the tinctures.

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