The Forest of Wind (Book Four of The Whispered Tales) - on hold

The fair

On Sunday, George accompanied Mother Doca to the fair. The old woman had to sell vegetables from her garden and some woolen carpets woven on the loom. His grandmother was recognized in the village for her skill, and fair days were always a reason to rejoice. George remembered the candied apples, the candy floss on the stick, or the gingerbread the old woman bought from the fair when he was a child. His grandmother insisted on buying him sweets even now when he was growing up.

That morning in the middle of summer, George had a hard time making his way among the people coming to the fair. There was a colorful and mixed crowd of peasants, merchants, street vendors, children running barefoot raising the dust to the sky, musicians, jumpers, pickpockets, but also noble young ladies that defended themselves from the sun with lace umbrellas, accompanied by young men in skinny, pompous suits who put up their noses at the smells and dust. And a bunch of looky-loos that, without having a penny in their pockets, still came to kill their time wandering around.

George found a free spot next to a chain carousel and helped Mother Doca spread her merchandise on a rug. The old woman then sat down on a small three-legged chair, smiled warmly at him, and urged him to take mind his own and not waste his time with an old woman.George smiled back at her and began to walk randomly among the colorful stalls and the busy or less busy people crowding in front of them. He used to like to observe people, to imagine why they were there and what were they thinking. Now, everything seemed pointless. Suffocating and dull.

But his heart skipped a beat when he saw Elena, the boyar's daughter, in front of a stall with colored fabrics. She had her hair braided in two rich tressed twisted around her head; she was wearing a fine lace dress, as was the fashion of the city nearby. She carried a small basket on her delicate arm. She was accompanied by two maids who carried baskets full of vegetables and other goodies that you could only find at the fair. Fortunately, none of his father's cottars were around. George stepped closer and touched her shoulder. The girl turned, slightly irritated, but when she caught sight of him, her eyes lit up and a meaningful smile appeared in the corner of her mouth.

"You've got guts, peasant boy," she said. "If one of my father's cottars saw you, you'd be in so much trouble. And this time you wouldn't get away with just a few kicks.""I'm not afraid of them," George said, smiling. "One day, they will become my cottars. And then, they'll beg me not to throw them in the street."

Elena raised an eyebrow and studied him from head to toe with the same smile on her lips. "Come on. Let's go somewhere where we can talk."George followed her among the merchants who were already crowding at that hour. The girl led him to an old oak tree behind the fair. They both hid behind the stalk, thick enough to hide them both. The shouts, the music, and the laughter were far away.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

George nodded. He took off his hat and coat. He then laid his coat on the soft grass and they both sat down. Elena took out of her basket some pies with spinach and cheese and a bottle of water. He handed him a piece of the pie, and laughed with all her heart as George chocked after the first bite; she tore a small piece, one that could only feed a sparrow, and nibbled on it like one.

"And what makes you think my father will ever accept you as my suitor? I'm courted by landlords sons. By officers," she said, raising her chin and looking down at him. "Don't you think you're too bold? Or too dreamy?"