Mourn 38

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Chapter 38 Lucky Draw 

Zephyr was about to refuse–games of chance held no appeal–when Sadie marched over, cradling the basket of folded slips and thrusting it beneath his nose. 

Sweat pearled at her temples, and soot smudges streaked her flushed cheeks, turning the busy girl into a rumpled, bright–eyed kitten. 

“One draw, Lord Zephyr?” she pleaded. 

The words “No need” hovered on Zephyr’s lips, yet he let them dissolve before they could leave his mouth. 

الأحمالة 

“So what’s the grand prize?” Zephyr asked, his gaze fixed on Sadie as though an invisible thread held him there. 

“Salt! Finely ground, white as snow!” Alexander blurted before anyone else could answer. 

Zephyr kept watching Sadie, studying the subtle shifts in her expression. 

The girl’s smile was so vivid and sweet that, to the casual onlooker, it might have looked like rock sugar melting in the afternoon sun. Zephyr, however, saw something else. To him, she resembled a handful of fine salt–white, pure, almost translucent, yet carrying a sting that warned people not to toy with it. 

No rule said a young woman had to be syrupy; salt, he decided, was better, because salt would not let itself be bullied. 

“Is that so? Then I’ll test my luck,” Zephyr said in a gentle voice. 

He reached into the box, drew out a folded slip of paper, and passed it to her. 

“Congratulations, Lord Zephyr. You’ve won a stuffed toy,” Sadie said, laughing softly. 

She reached into the wicker basket for the prize, closed her fingers around something soft, then hesitated mid–movement as she lifted it out. 

“What is it?” Zephyr asked. 

Sadie blinked back to awareness and thrust the toy toward him. “N–Nothing,” she murmured. 

Her eyes flicked, almost furtively, to the toy once more. 

The toy was a palm–sized rabbit she had cobbled together during a sleepless night, stitching random scraps into a vague rabbit shape. One ear was lavender, the other cobalt; the nose and mouth lay in hurried, crooked stitches. 

She had judged it ugly and buried it in the basket–never imagining that of all prizes, this would be the one he pulled. 

“If you don’t like it, Lord Zephyr, I/can fetch another,” she offered, clearing her throat in embarrassment. 

Zephyr glanced at the basket. “They’re quite ugly,” he said. 

Sadie’s lips parted, but no sound emerged. 

After all, the margins were thin; to keep the price down, she had bought only the cheapest stock. 

Chapter 38 Lucky Draw 

Rolling the long–eared rabbit between his fingers, Zephyr noticed that its belly was patched with a squared lilac cloth and one ear with a strip of deep indigo–exactly the fabrics Sadie was wearing today. This rabbit was not like the others. It had been born from her own hands. 

“Ugly as they are,” he said, lips curving in wicked amusement, “this rabbit is singularly hideous. It’s so magnificently ugly that I find myself rather keen to keep it.” 

Sadie stared at him, speechless. 

It isn’t that ugly, she protested inwardly, but she kept the thought to herself. 

Pocketing the long–cared rabbit, Zephyr joined Gregory and the other officials to continue their inspection of the fair. 

Sadie’s shoulders sagged for a heartbeat, yet she swallowed the disappointment and went back to peddling side by side with Alexander. 

“Have you practiced at all for this afternoon’s combat trial, Alex?” 

“Practice? Anyone born gifted never rehearses. Sadie, show a speck of faith, will you? I’ll send every last contender sprawling and win you some bragging rights,” Alexander said, flicking the hern of his robe with 

swagger. 

As they spoke, the other Francis siblings drifted past the stall. 

“Alexander, are you competing too?” Daisy asked, twisting her lace handkerchief while studying him. 

“Problem?” Alexander cocked an eyebrow. 

Daisy pressed her lips together, offering no answer. 

In the previous life, I remember the champion’s wreath went to Neville; Alexander never entered the ring because his legs were crippled. But this time, everything is changing. At Lady Talulla’s birthday banquet, Alexander outshot Neville and took the archery prize. If he seizes today’s title as well, Neville will lose the patron who once set his career ablaze. Without that backing, how will Neville join the garrison, earn his medals, and stand beside my wedding carriage as the Imperial Guard’s deputy commander I counted on? 

“Daisy, you look pale,” Neville said, worry creasing his brow. “Are you all right?” 

“Probably just tired from walking,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Look. Sadie has opened a stall. It’s rather amusing, isn’t it?” 

“Trading ranks below farmers and craftsmen,” Neville sneered. “We belong to officialdom; respectable families shun hawkers, yet she rushes to play peddler without a shred of shame.” 

“Let’s see what she’s selling,” Oliver said, voice low and steady. 

The four siblings reached the booth, watched for only a moment, and grasped at once how Sadie’s little venture minted silver. 

“Sadie, have you lost all propriety? This scheme is outright swindling!” Adonis barked, his brows kn. “It’s a fair bargain,” Sadie answered calmly. “The rules are written plainly on the sign. Where’s the swindle?” “Cheating, plain and simple,” Adonis insisted. “Return every coin before you disgrace the Francis name. 

1. it.