Gold Coin and Freesia

Edwin’s long and lush lashes caught the sunlight filtering through the coffee house’s grimy windows.

“There was a time when I believed they were my family,” Edwin began, his voice calm but heavy. “But long ago, Lady Lianne tried to kill me, and Barton lied about it, knowing full well what had happened.”

The sudden revelation hit without warning, a shocking truth that cut through the moment. For someone with such a pristine and beautiful exterior, Edwin’s harsh past was startlingly incongruous. Cordelia could only part her lips slightly, words failing her.

“Hailey Tride sold her family’s defunct title to ally with them. Now, she serves as Lady Lianne’s lackey, plotting to end my life with a serene face.”

“Ah…”

“So, I do not consider them family, nor do I entertain any notion of competing with them for the Tride Corporation’s succession.”

Edwin’s tone was steady, devoid of emotion, as though the weight of his past had hardened him.

“Have I satisfied your curiosity?”

Cordelia gave a small nod. She wasn’t sure she could carry on such a harrowing conversation any further without trembling.

“Shall we leave then?”

“But you haven’t even finished your coffee,” Cordelia said, pointing out his untouched cup.

“Neither have you,” Edwin replied, a faint teasing tone in his voice.

Caught, Cordelia offered him an awkward smile. She had insisted on visiting, yet barely touched her drink.

“We can have coffee at the estate anytime,” Edwin said, placing his cup down before rising from his seat.

Though Edwin occasionally enjoyed teasing her, he wasn’t one to keep her in situations she disliked. Offering his hand, he gestured for her to stand.

Cordelia placed her small hand in his, allowing him to help her up. His firm and steady grip was reassuring.

“It feels wasteful,” she murmured.

“Do you really think so, Your Highness?” Edwin asked with feigned innocence.

“Of course! Edwin, are you teasing me again?”

Edwin’s expression remained composed as he denied it, seamlessly leading her out of the establishment. Behind them, a collective sigh of relief went unnoticed.

“Is there anything worth seeing nearby?” Cordelia asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Hmm…” Edwin tilted his head thoughtfully, his gaze distant as he considered her question.

A sudden clatter interrupted their conversation.

“Oh my,” Cordelia exclaimed, her wide eyes darting toward the source of the noise.

Edwin’s eyes followed hers. A boy in a worn brown cap scrambled to his feet, dusted his knees, and darted down an alley.

“He must be hurt,” Cordelia murmured, concern flickering in her voice.

“More likely, he fears starving more than a scrape,” Edwin replied evenly.

The scene was a familiar one: a common pickpocket, wiry and swift. Such children often slipped through the fingers of the authorities, darting through narrow alleys and weaving through crowds.

As expected, the pursuing officers stopped at the mouth of the alley, clicked their tongues in frustration, and retreated.

“Why don’t they go inside?” Cordelia asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“That alley leads to the slums. It’s a place where fists matter more than laws. Even the police wouldn’t dare enter with only a handful of officers,” Edwin explained, his voice calm but firm.

“Don’t even look in that direction,” he added, his tone resolute.

Cordelia was surprised by his unyielding stance. She had thought, given his background, Edwin might empathize with the plight of the impoverished. Yet, his cold expression seemed to convey disdain.

“I understand,” she said softly, lowering her gaze.

After all, the Tride family’s wealth had flourished for generations, reaching unprecedented heights under Aaron’s leadership. Edwin’s upbringing, while technically not aristocratic, had been surrounded by affluence and privilege.

Even so, there was something paradoxical about Edwin. Despite his composed demeanor in the grimy coffee house and other such spaces, certain aspects of him remained inscrutable to Cordelia.

“If there’s nowhere else you’d like to visit, shall we explore the market?” Edwin suggested, his low voice breaking her thoughts.

“The market?”

Cordelia’s unease dissipated as her curiosity rekindled. Edwin had a way of steering her attention with ease, though it wasn’t solely due to her simplicity. He had a knack for captivating her focus.

“There’s a market along the way to the Tride estate. It’s clean, safe, and well worth a visit,” Edwin explained.

Cordelia found the idea intriguing. Though she had ventured outside the palace before, those outings had been limited to specific destinations. Her previous encounters with the outside world had been fleeting glimpses from a carriage window.

“Let’s go,” she agreed, nodding eagerly.

As they entered the market, the atmosphere shifted. The well-dressed crowds from the plaza gave way to a more eclectic mix of people.

“Amazing…” Cordelia whispered, her eyes wide with wonder as she took in the bustling scene.

Stalls lined both sides of the street, offering an array of goods. The variety was overwhelming, and Cordelia’s gaze flitted from one stall to the next like a child discovering a new world.

“Do they sell jewelry here?” she asked, half-joking.

“Pawnshops might carry some,” Edwin replied, his answer drawing a light, melodic laugh from Cordelia.

There was no malice in her amusement—only the innocent lack of understanding about commoners’ lives.

“Freshly baked bread! Olive loaves just out of the oven!”

The enticing aroma of baked goods wafted through the air as a baker rang a bell, drawing a crowd to his stall.

“Are you hungry?” Edwin asked, noticing her gaze lingering on the bread.

“I’m fine, but…” Cordelia glanced down at her flat stomach, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie.

“I’m a bit peckish. I’ll have someone fetch a loaf. You can try a bite,” Edwin said, handing a coin to a passing child and instructing them to fetch a loaf.

Cordelia didn’t protest. A small taste wouldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

The child returned quickly, cradling the warm loaf in both hands. But as they hurried toward Edwin, they tripped, sending the bread rolling onto the dusty ground.

“Your Highness!”

The child stumbled into Cordelia, nearly knocking her over. Edwin reached out, steadying her before she could fall.

“Edwin, the bread…” Cordelia trailed off, disheartened by the sight of the ruined loaf.

As she spoke, the loose ribbon of her bonnet came undone, and her hat fell to the ground, exposing her radiant features.

“Isn’t that Cordelia, the princess?” someone murmured.

The market fell silent as recognition spread like wildfire.

“Greetings, Your Highness!”

Realizing who she was, the crowd hastily bowed in respect. Cordelia, flustered and unsure of how to respond, straightened herself and looked to Edwin for guidance.

“Forgive me!” the child cried, throwing themselves to the ground in a show of remorse.

“Edwin,” Cordelia whispered, tugging on his sleeve. The child’s tear-streaked face tugged at her heartstrings.

“It’s just bread,” she murmured, unnerved by the mixture of awe, fear, and disdain in the crowd’s eyes.

“Stand,” Edwin commanded, his tone sharp.

The child hesitated before rising, sniffling as they dusted themselves off.

“No need for tears over something so trivial,” Edwin said, brushing off the incident.

Taking Cordelia by the hand, he turned to leave, deciding they had drawn enough attention for one day.

“My hat… It fell,” Cordelia said softly, glancing back.

The child picked up the bonnet, now smudged with dirt and creased where it had been stepped on. But by the time they looked up, the royal couple was already gone, leaving the soiled hat behind.