The Continent (The Continent #1)(54)

“I should think so,” Shoshi said. “It’s a fake.”

My mouth fell open. “It’s…what?”

He ran a finger along the haft. “This handle has been applied in many pieces. The Topi use larger segments of bone to enforce the sturdiness of the weapon. The knife is a fake, made to look as a Topi piece, but obviously made by Aven’ei hands—and clumsy ones, at that.”

“Oh,” I said, a rush of embarrassment coloring my cheeks. “Well. Oh.”

“How much did you pay for this?”

“One oka,” I admitted. Half a week’s pay. “I thought it was a special bargain.”

“Indeed it was,” Shoshi said. “All sales final, I suppose?”

I nodded. I felt like an idiot. But Shoshi put the knife in the pouch at his waist and said, “Be more careful. If it seems too good a price, it probably is.”

The following morning, Shoshi cursed at me and flung a rock at my wheelbarrow when I stumbled in the mud. And so the week went on in its usual manner, my failed gesture of goodwill having been shoveled away like so much manure. But at the end of the week, when it was time for me to collect my pay, Shoshi pushed three oka toward me.

“You’ve miscounted,” I said, taking two of the coins and leaving the third on the table.

“I’ve miscounted nothing. I retrieved your money from the marketplace, and added it to your wages.”

“You…” My eyes fell to the dull silver oka on the table—a small fortune, spent, lost, and now mine again. Gingerly, I picked it up, my heart moved by this small kindness. “That was thoughtful. I appreciate it.”

Shoshi, never one to miss an opportunity to blacken a moment, looked at me directly. “Mind your purchases from now on, Vaela Sun. You really are a very stupid girl.”

I am not a stupid girl, I think to myself two nights later, as I host my first ever dinner party. Noro, Yuki, and Takashi—Noro’s friend who patrols the village gate, the one who admitted us when we arrived—are gathered around my table, laughing, talking, happy. I am not a stupid girl at all. I am a happy one. An accomplished, hard-working, self-sufficient young woman with a full month’s wages in a satchel beneath my bed. I am, quite frankly, a bit amazing.

Hmm. I may also be slightly drunk. Yuki brought wine, and she has been liberal with it all evening. But the most important thing about Yuki is that she does not flirt with Noro. This has endeared her to me more deeply than ever. Not that I wish to flirt with Noro. That would be unbecoming, and in any case, he is merely my friend. But I don’t want Yuki to do it either.

“More wine?” she says, grinning, her eyes bright and glassy in the lamplight. She doesn’t wait for me to answer, but rather pours another two inches of glimmering red liquid into my glass.

Takashi’s cheeks are two pink roses; he’s had even more to drink than I. Which means…three glasses? Four? I’m not certain. He has turned out to be a very friendly young man, now that he doesn’t suspect me of being a Topi.

“More for me, please,” he says, holding his cup high in the air. “It’s a long while since I’ve had wine this good.”

Yuki beams. “It’s from Kojima, up near Sana-Zo—do you know it? The vintner is incredible. He and his wife work alternate weeks to ensure that the yield is perfect every year.”

Takashi opens his mouth, but Yuki clamps a hand over it. “Do not sing. I’ve heard you warbling up on the wall, friend, and I’m not like to endure it again.”

His brow furrows. “How did you know I was about to—”

“You just have the look,” Yuki says. “So don’t.”

Takashi turns to Noro with wide eyes. “Do you believe this girl?”

Noro gives him a faint smile. “I believe I once heard you sing, Takashi, and it was not a happy experience.”

Takashi presses his lips together, then says to me, “I may not trill like a bird, Vaela Sun, but I have music in my heart.”

“Leave it there,” Yuki says, and all of us laugh, including Takashi.

I rub my fingertip along the rim of my glass, feeling happy, warm, and relaxed. “I’m so glad you all could come tonight. I only hope the dinner was all right.”

Awkward glances are exchanged all around the table.

“Oh, really?” I say, dismayed. “Was it that bad?” I worked so hard, even if I only managed to drum up a sad-looking salad and supplement with toasted bread. I burnt three beautiful loaves trying to measure the heat of the stove, broke a utensil, and reduced two tomatoes to pulp before figuring out how to slice them properly. I only wanted to try my hand at hosting, so that I might offer something to my new friends.

“Well,” Takashi says, “it was a bit…vegetarian.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I haven’t got the nerve up to kill a chicken or a duck yet, and I can’t eat beef now that I work with the cows. Have you ever looked into the eyes of a cow? They’re beautiful.”

“You’re drunk,” Takashi says. “What you need is a husband—someone to teach you how to slaughter an animal quick and clean, and have it on the table in time for supper.”

Yuki groans. “The last thing she needs is a husband. She’s doing perfectly fine on her own.”