Chapter 282: Markets, Figurines, and the Shockingly Popular Queen
Chapter 282: Markets, Figurines, and the Shockingly Popular Queen
Elyn’s POV
Zorathys nodded once, and then I turned to the children.
"Aziren," I called.
He didn’t respond.
He was still staring at Zorathys, his amber eyes bright, the flames in his hair dancing like they were trying to communicate something.
"Aziren," I called again.
Still nothing.
I sighed, walked over to him, and gently touched his shoulder, and that was when he blinked.
"Yes?" he asked, finally looking at me.
I smiled at him.
"Do you want something from the stalls?" I asked. "Anything you see?"
His eyes lit up immediately.
He turned, scanning the market with renewed focus, and then he pointed.
"Those," he said.
I followed his gaze.
A stall not far from where we stood was covered in figurines. Dozens of them, maybe hundreds, arranged in neat rows across multiple wooden tables. They were carved from what looked like dark stone and polished until they gleamed, each one capturing a figure in exquisite detail.
We moved to the stall, and it was only when we got closer that I realized what the figurines were of.
The first one I recognized was Zorathys. There was no mistaking it — the long black hair, the ruby eyes, the earrings, even the way his shadows curled around his feet. The craftsmanship was stunning. Whoever had made these had seen him clearly, had studied him, had captured something of his presence in stone.
I stared at it for a moment longer.
Then I looked at the figurine beside it.
And my breath caught.
It was me.
The red hair — my hair — cascading down the figurine’s back in soft waves. The blue eyes, somehow rendered in stone with enough precision that they actually looked blue. The gown I had worn to the introductory ball, every fold and stitch perfectly recreated.
I stared at it.
Then I turned to Zorathys.
"Tell me the demons here don’t know it’s us," I said quietly.
He shook his head.
"I cast a spell on all of us before we left," he said. "To the demons in this market, we look like any other demon out for a walk."
I exhaled in relief.
"Good," I said. "Because this is already strange enough without being recognized."
The children had already descended on the stall.
Aziren was the first to reach the table. His small hands reached out immediately, and he picked up a figurine of Zorathys — there was no surprise there, given how obsessed he was with Zorathys.
He held it up to the light, his amber eyes wide, a soft sound of wonder escaping him.
"Cool," he whispered.
Zayrion, more measured in his approach, adjusted his glasses and then picked up a figurine of me first. He studied it for a moment, his tails swaying slowly behind him, and then he picked up one of Zorathys as well.
"I will take both," he said quietly.
Velira grabbed two figurines of me.
"Your Majesty," she said, clutching them to her chest, "you are after my heart."
Zorathys’s gaze snapped to her.
"Be careful with your words," he said.
Velira just smiled at him.
Retheris and Thalira moved together, as they always did. They picked up one figurine each of me and Zorathys, exchanged a glance, and nodded in satisfaction.
Brixton picked up a figurine of me. He held it carefully, his ears slightly red, and said nothing.
Then it was Azerion’s turn.
He reached for the table and paused, searching the display.
His brows furrowed.
"Where," he said slowly, "is the Queen’s figurine?"
The stall owner appeared from behind the table.
He was a stone demon — but unlike any I had seen before. His body was carved from dark granite, but running through it like veins were roots. Living roots, thick and twisted, lining his arms and chest and even climbing up the sides of his face. Some parts of him had actual greenery — small leaves, clusters of moss, even what looked like tiny flowers blooming along his shoulders.
He smiled at Azerion, his stone face somehow managing to look apologetic.
"Ah," he said, his voice deep and rumbling like stones shifting underground. "The Queen’s figurines sold out this morning. Again. The few ones we had have already been picked by you lot."
Azerion stared at him.
"Again?" he repeated.
The stall owner nodded, brushing a leaf from his arm.
"They always sell out quickly," he explained. "Especially after the introductory ball. We have been trying to keep up with demand, but..." He spread his hands, roots shifting with the movement. "We have never had a queen as popular as Her Majesty."
Beside me, Zorathys leaned forward slightly.
"Right?" he said, his voice carrying that lazy drawl. "The Queen is so popular."
The stall owner nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes," he said. "I heard she even does the work of the King now. Handles petitions, manages court, everything."
Zorathys’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly.
But the stall owner did not notice.
He was too busy continuing.
"But that is not why she is popular," he said. "She is popular because she is very demonlike. Extremely so. Beautiful — more beautiful than any queen we have almost had."
Zorathys’s expression shifted slightly.
The stall owner continued, warming to his subject.
"Demons have been trying to copy her hair," he said. "The style she wore to the introductory ball, everyone wants it now. And the clothes! The stall that made her gown has been flooded with requests. They cannot keep up either."
Zorathys’s eyes widened slightly.
"Really?" he asked.
The stall owner nodded again.
"Really," he confirmed. Then he looked at Zorathys — at his dark clothes, at the way he stood close to me, at the children gathered around us — and smiled knowingly.
"You should get one for your wife," he said, gesturing to me. "I know women like that sort of thing."
Zorathys looked at me, and then he turned to the stall owner.
"Maybe I will," he said.
The stall owner beamed.
"How much for the figurines?" Zorathys asked.
"Six hundred gabin for all of them," the stall owner said.
Zorathys reached into his coat — I had no idea where the money came from, and I did not ask — and placed a handful of coins on the table.
"Keep the change," he said.
The stall owner’s eyes went wide.
"Thank you, kind sir," he said, bowing deeply. "Thank you."
Zorathys waved him off.
"Use the extra to produce more figurines of the Queen," he said. "You will likely get more requests soon."
The stall owner bowed again, already counting the coins, already mentally calculating how many more figurines he could carve.
Zorathys turned away from the stall, and I fell into step beside him.
"You can be kind, it seems," I said quietly.
He laughed.
It was a soft sound, barely more than a breath.
"That," he said, "was not me being kind."
I opened my mouth to argue.
But he was already walking toward a different stall — one that sold snacks, judging by the sweet smell drifting through the air — and the only reason he had walked at all was because the stall was not far.
I sighed.
Then I turned to the children.
"Come on," I said.
Aziren immediately clutched his figurine of Zorathys tighter and hurried after him.
The others followed.
And I took one last look at the stall behind us, at the figurines of me and Zorathys standing side by side, and then I walked after them too.