Venya wiped her eyes, feeling a little foolish after her sudden tears.
“The rope was nothing.
You don’t have to cry over it,” Melia murmured.
“I’ll make you a better one.” “It’s not about the rope.” “I know, but if I think it is, I can keep the tears away.
I don’t want to cry.” Melia pressed her fingers to the inner corners of her eyes.
“If I start, I’ll still be crying tomorrow.” “Would you like some herbal tea?” “You have tea?
Yes, please.” “I’ve been clearing out the herb bed I found the other day.” She had been weeding the bed and uncovering its stone border.
She had recognized a few more herbs, such as mint and chamomile, but her knowledge of herbs was limited.
She had dried small batches of the herbs she recognized for later use.
She would use them for seasoning food, making tea, and filling sachets.
They sat by the fire pit waiting for the water to boil and just enjoyed the silence.
Ves had woken up and was now sitting between them.
He had already learned that whenever she boiled water, food followed.
Venya wondered where he had hidden the handkerchief.
It hurt a little to disappoint him this time.
“Do you think I could find work in the village?” “Of course.
I can ask Father.
He can find you something.” Melia slipped her hand into her apron pocket and took something out.
She fed it to Ves, and he swallowed it so quickly that Venya could almost believe she’d imagined it.
“I don’t want to take advantage of your family anymore,” Venya said, lifting the kettle off the fire.
She placed the kettle on a flat stone and poured half a handful of dried herbs into it.
The warm scent of mint and chamomile rose from the kettle.
“If you can do needlework, there are several options…” “I don’t.” “The Lovely Rose is looking for a cook…” “Don’t know how to cook.
And don’t suggest working as a maid.
I’m not exactly maid material.” “You can’t be a nanny or governess either.
No offense.
No one would trust a stranger with their kids.” “I’m not good with kids anyway.” They went over several other options and finally decided that Venya could ask about work at several shops, the brewery, and workshops that hired women.
Venya was astonished that men took care of all the animals except chickens and ducks.
Laundry was men’s work too, but not women’s underwear.
It kind of made sense.
Doing laundry was hard physical work.
“I heard that a silversmith is coming tomorrow to Tinyspring.
You can exchange the silver Ves found and buy more things.” “That’s great.
I need an airtight container for peas and beans, and some vegetables and dried meat.
And a large barrel for filtering the water.
More water containers.” “You need a proper axe too.” “I need a lot of things, but with this amount of silver I can’t buy everything.
Prioritizing is the key.” “Prio…what?
I will give you salt, so don’t use your money for that.” The following morning, she went around the village asking for work.
She wore the new dress, well, new to her, and had braided her hair neatly herself.
She was finally getting the hang of it.
So far, she’d had no success.
Her career and years in college were wasted here.
It was most likely because she was a stranger who talked funny.
The village was rather small.
Perhaps fewer than a thousand people lived here.
The villagers might be too suspicious of her.
However, one shop owner, a man with a round belly, a friendly face, and a fancy mustache, offered her work.
“I happen to have a need for a helper in the stockroom.
Would that interest you?” Before Venya could say anything, his wife appeared from the back room.
“I hired a helper.
The boy next door,” she said, crossing her arms as she looked at her husband.
The man opened his mouth to speak, then seemed to think better of it and smiled at Venya instead.
“I’m sorry.
Maybe next time.” Venya thanked the couple and left.
She had dodged a bullet there.
The owner was probably too friendly with his hired help.
When the silversmith arrived in the afternoon and set up his stall on the market square, Venya went to trade in the old silver.
After that, she held a small coin purse in her hand.
It was too light.
The silver pieces weren’t official currency, so they fetched a lower price.
A delicious smell drifted through the air.
Coffee!
Venya lifted her head and followed the scent until she stood in front of the Lovely Rose inn.
She patted the thin coin purse at her waist, where she had tied it with multiple knots.
Her survival was at stake.
She would die gladly if she did it with the taste of coffee in her mouth.
Herbal tea could only take her so far.
Besides, how expensive could it be?
She was used to paying highway-robbery prices for Excelsior Pumpkin-Vanilla-Whatever Extravagance lattes.
The Lovely Rose was much finer than she’d expected.
The tables were clean, elegant tapestries covered the walls, and vases of fresh flowers decorated the corners.
Simple and elegant brass lamps and candle holders cast a soft light.
At the other end, however, the decor was more lavish.
It was obviously reserved for guests connected with the mansion.
There were tablecloths on the tables, upholstered chairs, and soft, comfortable couches.
Had the old inn once looked like this?
Her imagination ran with the possibilities of what Sweetness House could one day become.
Admittedly, she was standing there gaping and blocking the way, but the shove almost knocked her over.
“Will you move?
I’m already late,” the man said without turning around as he marched to the counter.
A boy, maybe eleven or twelve, hurried after him carrying a few bags.
Ah, a grumpy, arrogant customer.
Venya gave him a shallow curtsy and stepped away.
How well had she mastered the meek, passive-aggressive curtsy that maids used as a weapon?
She was not innocent of using petty tricks herself.
Delaying sending emails or documents and such.
Her small dark heart was not something to be praised for.
Knowing one’s shortcomings is a step toward a better life, she thought and went to talk to the waitress who was wiping the table.
“Excuse me.
Do you sell coffee here?” The waitress looked Venya up and down without saying anything.
Then she snorted.
“You don’t have enough money.
It’s one gold for a cup.” “One gold coin?
How many silver coins is that?” “That’s ten.
Do you want a cup?” “Ten?!” That was a highway-robbery price.
The seven pieces of silver had fetched her four silver coins and forty-five pennies.
She couldn’t even afford a good knife with that.
“Do you put diamond powder in it?
Does it have whipped cream?” “No.
It’s just coffee.
Why would you put whipped cream on it?” “You should add sugar too.
Then charge even more.” Maybe she could live without coffee.
She still had a few places to ask for work, and then she would tackle her shopping list.
After an hour of job hunting, Venya went to the market square and took a sip from the fountain.
The water gushing from the fountain was drinkable, or so Melia had told her.
As expected, she hadn’t gotten any work.
People began shouting on the other side of the square, a crowd forming around something.
Then a young boy raced past her.
It was the boy who had been following that arrogant man in the Lovely Rose.
Her own experience with the villagers was still fresh in her mind, so she went to see if someone needed help.
For a moment, she was right back there again.
As she pushed through the crowd, she saw a man on all fours in the middle of the circle, vomiting.
I like it black, no sugar.
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