"I'm hardly allowed out of the castle," he said sharply. "Much less in the streets. I don't know what goes in here and I don't understand you as much as you don't understand me." He paused, looking down as his hood covered his eyes. "Now.. Go. Go back to your business." *** She nodded, going over to the door and opening it for him.
She frowned, tucking her hands behind her before she bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, sire," she said lowly, turning to leave. There was a pause before she looked over her shoulder, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Politics aside, it was a pleasure to dance with you." With that, she weaved into the crowd, a thread in the tapestry of the community, and disappeared from sight, her golden hair vanishing between the woolen cloaks of the people. * * * He inclined his head gratefully, hurrying over, his stride long and quick. "Thank you. I need to stop by the apothecary first," he said, consulting a piece of parchment. "They have a vial I've been looking to get my hands on."
He tilted his head slightly, squinting at her back as she left. He frowned and turned away, starting back toward the castle. *** She followed behind him, observing the surroundings. "Very well. Where after that?"
That evening, Clara walked through the empty streets, her shawl drawn tightly over her shoulders as she moved like water. A flash of gold caught the street lights as she traded coin for various wares; herbs in linen pouches smelling of faraway lands, cuts of meat that had been salted and stored in crinkled, yellowing paper, old books that the names had worn off long ago. The Moon Market was available to all who knew of its existence, but the objects had been obtained from questionable means. Knocking on certain windows would bring wary merchants out, their glittering eyes shifting over the street before extending a hand for coin in exchange for their goods. *** “Perhaps the market,” he mused. “I’d like some ginger root, but I’m not certain they have a supply currently.”
Ezekiel was in his room at this hour, the lanterns giving the room a warm glow. He sat back into the fluffy pillows, opening the book of decree'd laws of the kingdom and beginning to read. *** She gave an understanding nod. "We may as well check."
After a while, he would begin to notice certain decrees against Gypsies. “Those who live a nomadic lifestyle are not protected under Acts VI, IX, IXX...” “Dancing for the tips of the townspeople is unlawful and should be discouraged at all costs...” “Pursuing living in caravans rather than established buildings removes the protection of the town’s militia...” *** (Zoop?)
More than anything, it seemed that gypsies didn't count as citizens. The protection that the city offered did not extend to them, as well as benefits to status or finances. * * * Charlie opened the door of the apothecary, checking his bag thoughtfully. "Alright. We just need a couple of things here. Our outing shouldn't take too long."
This appeared to upset him and he frowned, setting the book down. He went out to look across the kingdom from the balcony, before going back into the palace, going to find the king. *** (Yoop!)
The king was in his study, his quill scratching at the parchment as he wrote. He didn’t turn around when his son entered, obviously focused. “What is it, Ezekiel?” *** (?)
Ezekiel frowned, holding the book within his hands as he turned to pages towards his father, showing him. "Why are there so many laws against gypsies?" *** Wren followed him in, looking around shop with a hint of curiosity. She may have looked a little suspicious, but that's how she always seemed while entering new places. "Very well."
The king glanced up, perhaps in surprise. It wasn't usual for his son to show a concern with the laws. "Gypsies are a drain on the city's resources," he said slowly. "And they contribute very little. Picture them as leeches. We don't want leeches in our city, do we?" * * * "Feel free to look around," he said, gesturing. "Just don't touch anything. You could get sick."
He frowned, looking down at the book again. "Shouldn't we rather support the community to help us rather than putting our resources into arresting them and imprisoning them? If the proper reinforcement we could profit from them." *** She raised her eyebrows at him in surprise, but wandering through the store and observing the glasses with interest. She seemed to get absorbed into the different colors and uses.
“They are not part of the city, Ezekiel,” his father said tiredly. “They’re nomadic, they don’t stay in one city forever. They come to towns, draining the townspeople of their money through theft and foolish spendings, and then they leave. What brings this up?” *** Charlie moves through the shelves, pulling down a few bottles and muttering to himself thoughtfully. A salesperson came up to him, his hair cleanly cut and short. “Anything I can help you find today, sir?” the man said to him politely. Charlie looked up suddenly, growing quiet and reserved. After a moment, he shook his head quickly.
"Well," he replied slowly, looking thoughtful. "I figured I might as well involve myself. I can't remain ignorant forever." He folded his hands elegantly. "I understand the problem of the theft, but if citizens choose to tip their dancing then that's their choice. I think that should be allowed at the very least. Not all of us are as fortunate to find proper income." *** Wren looked up at the two of them, noting the stranger and frowning at his shyness. She approached the salesman, acting as a sort of distraction for Charles to continue looking for what he needed. "Excuse me, sir," she said, her voice and expressions unintentionally harsh. "Do you happen to sell chamomile leaves here?"
"We want to dissuade uneducated people from trying to come here, Ezekiel. Let's not fight this now. We can discuss it in the morning, but for now, it's late." * * * The salesman turned to look at Wren curiously. "Chamomile leaves...? Uh, yes," he said, seemingly unnerved by the severity of her expression. "Right this way." Charlie shot her a grateful look, mouthing his thanks.
He sighed, not letting his annoyance show through. "Alright, then." *** She gave him a slight nod before following the salesman.
He nodded, turning, signifying the end of the conversation. Clara lifted her lantern, her head down as she moved through the streets. She stopped at a cross street and her head whipped to the side as she heard the rattling of a can having been kicked. She frowned and moved to the wall, hooking her foot on the lantern and pulling herself up to the roof. * * * He went through the shelves, moving quickly and setting vials into his basket.
Ezekiel frowned, returning to his room and setting the book on his table. He went out to his balcony, sitting down on the railing and looking out again. *** She wasn't just fooling him when she said she needed chamomile. She had been having sleeping troubles and would go on to purchase a small bag of chamomile leaves.
She stood on the roof of a nearby building, her lantern flickering as she looked across the city. She sighed, sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest as she looked up at the moon thoughtfully. * * * He came up to the cash register, avoiding eye contact with the clerk as he set the vials down.
