The sun was just peeking over the horizon, painting the sky in vivid shades of pink and purple, when Rossiath stepped out of her parent's house to make her way down to the road. She hurried, not because she needed to – it was simply her nature - and soon arrived at the town square where several people were already setting up their stalls for the day.
Market day was always bustling, with people coming from the neighboring villages to buy and sell their crops and crafts. With a quick grin and a wave, the young woman stepped past some older men bickering over the placement of the leathers they were hawking, making her way to her family's table. The scent of her mother's bilberry pies wafted on the breeze and Rossiath noted ruefully that she'd forgotten to eat in her rush out the door. She'd regret it later, she thought, when she was hard pressed to resist sneaking a slice of the pie, or spending her hard earned coin on some savory treat from the nearby stalls.
So busy was she, thinking about her lack of breakfast, that she didn't notice the dark haired young man watching her as she passed by. For the past fortnight he'd been there, a new face among the merchants and locals. A few of the local girls had been heard beneath the large tree in the center of town, twittering over him, for he was tall and rather handsome. Rossiath, however, had no time for such nonsense and paid little mind to his presence.
“Rose!” Her mother called out to her as she approached the stall. “Come give your father a hand. I fear I may have made just a few more pies than I intended.”
Rossiath shook her head, stepping around the table to take two of the pies from her father. Her mother always seemed to make a few more than she intended, but rarely did any of them go to waste. Most sold at market, and those that didn't were passed around to the neighbors. Deftly, she set them down on the table and quickly counted them all out – 48, no 49? Either way, it seemed there were more than enough for the days' customers.
Between her father and herself, they soon had the pies laid out in a tantalizing display on the wooden table. Again, Rossiath recalled that she'd not eaten and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to break an edge off one of the crusts to taste it.
“Pardon me,” a deep voice rumbled, breaking Rossiath from her thoughts, “but would it be possible to buy one of those pies now?”
“Oh!” Rossiath exclaimed quietly and looked up into a pair of vivid hazel eyes. “Well, of course … I mean we're not fully set up but .. yes.” She stepped back, composing herself as she watched the young man look over the table before selecting one and picking it up. “How much for this one?” she heard him ask.
“That'll be 44 copper please,” Rossiath said and watched as he reached into his pocket for some coins, counting them out into her hand with a grin. She looked down at her hand, verifying at a glance it was the right amount and, with a murmur of thanks, turned to put them in her mother's coin box.
From behind her, she heard him clear his throat before asking. “Wouldn't care to share this with me now, would you? Seems a bit much for one person to eat alone.”
Rossiath furrowed her brow, her baffled expression hidden from his sight as she shook her head. “No, you bought that pie, is yours to eat. Besides, it'll save for later.”
Behind her, the young man's shoulders slumped slightly and his face fell. However, since Rossiath was now busy looking through her mother's market book to mark down the sale, she didn't notice. Nor did she hear the disappointment in his voice as he replied, “Of course, well thank you Miss Rose,” before turning and walking away with the pie.
