The Orchard Boutique was a hot spot for the upper-class women of Swaan. The waitlist for custom orders was several years long, and the ready-made dresses sold out in a heartbeat despite their high price. The owner had been known to turn people away for the most minor offenses, such as touching a dress they hadn’t bought or complaining about the price. There were exceptions, of course. The little girl running around the sales floor, touching everything she thought was pretty, was one of those exceptions.
“My lady! Why don’t I show you some of our little princess collection?” One of the clerks, a pine tree dryad, suggested as gently as possible to the fox kit. She had enough experience to know that nobody had more spending power than the only daughter of an influential family, especially if that daughter was the youngest of the family.
While the family's little lady was led away to the princess’ section, the birch tree dryad employee was talking to the family's young masters. “You both have such lovely, long hair! While we mostly cater to women, we do have a line of unisex hair accessories! I know just the colors that would fit you two!” She gushed before disappearing behind the desk to fetch their premium line of ribbons and hair clips.
Three ornate boxes were laid out on the table. One with hair accessories, one with horn ornaments, and one with wing accessories. “We still had some of these in stock! I saw you don’t have any ornaments, and the natural look is charming, but ornaments like these are all the rage within demonic youth circles right now. I wish these things were a thing back when I was still a sapling!” She enthusiastically showed the pair each item, reiterating their popularity. And it was true, the waiting list for these things was a very long one.
The owner of the boutique, an apple tree dryad named Pomeline of Orchards, was busy drafting a contract with the mysterious nobleman who had taken Swaan’s fashion industry by storm. He wasn’t very talkative, but he sure did know his numbers. His unfriendly behavior would ordinarily offend an upper-class woman like her, but she found the way he focused so intensely strangely charming. Ah, what is she doing? Admiring a married man wasn’t what a proper woman did.
“I saw your children when you came in, let me just say, they’re all gorgeous. I couldn’t help but think that they all looked different. Do you have many wives, my lord?” Pomeline twirled her red hair coyly. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right? Nobles were known to have many wives, and if he had particularly many, then maybe she could slip in?
“They don’t have mothers. They’re adopted.” The nobleman responded bluntly, not even bothering to look up from the abacus in his lap to meet her gaze. She liked his dedication to his work, but she liked that he was single even more. “Sign here, and here, and over there.” He pointed to the piece of magical parchment. It had a bunch of legal nonsense that Pomette didn’t understand even half of, but she was more than happy to sign.
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She pricked her finger and let the sap drip on the paper, sealing their business contract. The Persson Trading Company would reserve 30% of every batch of their ‘Shimmer’s Colorant - Rose Red” product. In exchange, The Orchard Boutique pays 125% of the current market price for the products. The Orchard Boutique may decline to purchase any product. However, the contract is void if the purchase is rejected twice in a row.
“That’s settled, then. We have already handled this month’s transaction. We will be back next month.” As the man turned to leave, Pomeline tugged at his sleeve to get his attention. She gently plucked an apple blossom from her hair and tucked it into his breast pocket.
“A gift, if you will.”
As the group walked out of the boutique, Norman mumbled something about all the clerks staring at him and whispering about the flower he was wearing. Was he not meant to accept it? It would have been rude not to. He wanted to keep a good business relationship with the owner, after all. Rowboat, who had been guarding the carriage, had a knowing glint in her eye, but she didn’t say a word about it.
“Papa! The store lady said they’re having a festival here soon! Can we go?” Pail tugged at his papa’s sleeve and dragged him towards a nearby poster. It was advertising the annual harvest festival and all the activities it offered. Pail couldn’t read it very well, but he did understand the words for candy and games.
“Huh? Oh. Yes. Sure, we can go. We don’t have any deliveries on that day.” Before Norman could finish speaking, Pail ran off to tell the others the great news. He would have to research how festivals in this world worked. If he went off the poster, they certainly weren’t like the simple farmers' markets back home.
“What’s next on the agenda, boss?” Rowboat called out from the coachman’s seat. “The little one says she’s hungry!” Rowboat was actually the hungry one, but it was easier to blame it on the toddler who had an endless pit for a stomach.
“Food time?” Primrose said with impeccable timing. If you didn’t know her, it seemed like an impressive coincidence. However, if you knew her, you’d know she asked that same question every five minutes during outings. She’d eat all her snacks on the carriage ride to wherever they were going, then whine about food until Papa bought her a treat.
“I want chicken!” Pail called out from inside the carriage. Shimmer’s quip was too quiet to be heard from outside, but by the response of “What’s cannibalism?”, the adults in the group got the gist. Norman was torn on how to respond. On one hand, he should probably discourage teasing. On the other hand, he was glad that Shimmer felt safe enough to tease.
He would let it slide this time, if only because Pail had no idea that he was being insulted. “We just ate breakfast an hour ago. We can get something when we buy groceries, but we’re heading to the guild and the bank before that.” With that, the Persson family was off to their next errand.
For the next few days, there were whispers about a certain unapproachable beauty sighing wistfully at her calendar, waiting for the man who had won her heart to return.
