"Carol! Hurry up, let's go! I can't wait to see the village market!" Ysa called out excitedly, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran toward the courtyard gate. The cool morning air filled her lungs, and the anticipation made her feel lighter, almost like a child again. I've waited so long for this—finally, a break from scrubbing floors!
Behind her, she heard Carol's voice, slightly out of breath. "Wait for me, Miss Ysa!" Carol called, hurrying after her.
Ysa skidded to a halt, turning quickly, her excitement momentarily replaced by annoyance. "Carol!" she scolded, crossing her arms as Carol caught up. "How many times do I have to tell you? Stop calling me 'Miss.' Just call me Ysa, okay?"
Carol blinked, looking flustered but nodding obediently. "I—I'm sorry, Ysa. It's just… habit, I guess."
Ysa sighed, softening as she looked at Carol's apologetic expression. "I'm not a 'Miss' of the Montemayor family. I'm not some noble, Carol. I'm just like you, an Ordani. My family... they've forgotten about me." Her voice trailed off, and she glanced away, the excitement of the morning dimming slightly.
Carol's face softened in understanding. "I'm sorry, Ysa. I didn't mean to upset you."
Ysa shook her head, forcing a smile back on her face. "It's fine, really. Let's just go." She turned back toward the gate, her eagerness returning. "Come on, Carol! "
The marketplace was a whirlwind of activity. Stalls overflowed with colorful fruits and vegetables, their aromas mingling with the enticing scents of freshly baked bread and exotic spices.
Merchants called out their wares, their voices competing with the chatter of customers and the laughter of children. Ysa, her eyes wide with wonder, clung to Carol's hand as they navigated the crowded lanes.
"Look, Ysa!" Carol exclaimed, pointing to a stall draped with brightly colored fabrics. "Those are silk scarves from the Eastern Isles. Aren't they beautiful?"
Ysa gasped, her fingers tracing the delicate patterns. She had never seen such vibrant colors before. "They're amazing," she whispered, her heart filled with a longing for the beauty and vibrancy she had left behind in the city.
As they wove their way through the bustling marketplace, Ysa's attention was suddenly caught by a small crowd gathered near one of the stalls. Curious, she slowed her pace and peeked through the gaps between the people. In the center stood an elderly woman with a mischievous glint in her eye, her hands moving expressively as she spun tales of mythical creatures and daring adventurers.
The storyteller's voice had a rhythm to it, a hypnotic cadence that drew Ysa in, making her forget the noise of the market and the weight of her usual worries. She stood there, utterly captivated, as the old woman spoke of fearless warriors who tamed fire-breathing beasts and kingdoms hidden deep within enchanted forests. How incredible would it be to live in one of those stories, Ysa mused, momentarily losing herself in the world of imagination. Far from scrubbing floors and doing chores...
"Ysa! There you are!" A familiar voice cut through her reverie, making her snap back to reality.
Carol appeared, panting slightly, her eyes wide with a mix of relief and exasperation. "I thought I lost you in the crowd! What are you doing here?" she scolded, sounding a little frantic.
"Oh, Carol, I'm sorry," Ysa said, embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her neck. "I got distracted by the storyteller. I didn't even realize how long I'd been standing here." She glanced over at the old woman one last time, almost regretting that the story had to end for her.
Carol huffed, crossing her arms. "Ysa, Elsa told me to teach you how to buy the supplies, but you've been running around the marketplace like a child. What if you got lost? What would I even tell Elsa?" Her frustration was clear, but there was also an undercurrent of worry in her voice.
Ysa grimaced, looking a little sheepish. "I know, I know, I'm sorry, Carol. I just got a little distracted. And hey, I'm only 8—I'm still a kid, after all," she added with a nervous giggle. "So, are we done with the supplies?"
Like a child? Ysa bristled at Carol's words. She knew she should be paying attention to the task at hand, but the stories... were just so much more interesting than sacks of flour and baskets of apples.
"Yes, I finished everything while you were off daydreaming." Carol shook her head, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Next time, you'd better pay attention to where we buy things, okay? It's not just about the stories, you know."
Ysa nodded sheepishly. "I promise. I'll stay focused next time." But even as she said it, a small part of her wished she could linger longer in the world of stories.
As they approached the courtyard gate, Ysa spotted Elsa standing there, arms crossed and eyes scanning the path. Her heart sank. "Oh no, the dragon's waiting," she muttered under her breath.
Turning to Carol with a pleading look, Ysa whispered, "Carol, please don't tell Elsa about what happened at the market, okay? You know, me wandering off and all that." Her eyes widened in mock desperation, hoping to convince Carol to keep her little adventure a secret.
Carol rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement on her face. "If she doesn't ask, I won't say a word," she replied before striding ahead of Ysa.
"Hey, Carol!" Ysa called out, chasing after her, her worry bubbling up. "What if she finds out? The thought of Elsa's disapproval, of that stern look in her eyes, sent a shiver down her spine. "Oh no, I might end up scrubbing floors again!" She groaned, imagining Elsa handing her a rag the moment they stepped through the gate.