9 A carriage blocks the way

Eva often thought about her brief encounter with the young painter on the rooftop. His name was Dylan Callow, and he was studying to be a painter for the royal court. Although his professors at the imperial college were satisfied with him, his grandfather was not. Saying something along the lines of  'a painter should suffer' he sent his grandson to Saltspindle to live amongst the poor. She giggled remembering Dylan's sad sack expression as he told her that he'd already been robbed twice on his way to school.

Every time she went up to the roof, she hoped he would be there. However, she had been unlucky the last few times.

Over a week had passed since her first trip to Gwendolyn's shop in Falkirk. She had already gone to see Gwendolyn a second time. Although the news she'd received was good, it was not what she hoped for. Ever Since Gwendolyn put the black roses on display, it created quite a buzz for her shop. People would stand outside and point at the eye-catching bouquet of black roses and pink baby's breath through the window, some mothers even brought their children to take a look. This display definitely increased the number of customers who came into her store, allowing her to sell more flowers than she usually would. However, selling the black roses was a different story. Although people wanted to look at the never seen before roses, black was an ominous color according Ardenshore culture. It was worn at funerals and during mourning periods; the color of death. Hence people were reluctant to purchase the bouquets.

It wasn't until a few days later that a young man burst through the shop doors, trembling, pointing at the black roses. When a startled Miss Gwendolyn approached, he clasped her hands and stated that he needed three bouquets of the black roses.

Agreeing to his parents arrangement, he was going to marry into the wealthy Grimtide family. Being the first of his family to graduate from an imperial college, he was his poor family's shinning star. This marriage was extremely important to his family because it would increase their social standing. The engagement was almost concluded, except that his bride-to-be was a rather peculiar woman by Ardenshore standards. The men of the Grimtide family were royal inspectors, what Katherine would classify as policemen of detectives. Perhaps that upbringing is what made his bride rather peculiar. She didn't fancy pretty dresses of colourful bouquets like other women. She only dressed in dark dreary colours, and painted pictures of rotting fruit and animal carcasses in her free time. She was also very fond of the occult.

He didn't care about his wife's strange habits much, after all this was a marriage of convenience. His problem was the custom where the groom presents a bouquet of roses to his beloved at the engagement ceremony. Her acceptance of the bouquet would be a metaphoric acceptance of him and their marriage. He already tried twice before, but she had picked apart his bouquet of pink roses the first time, and threw his bouquet of red roses on the ground the second time. He was walking aimlessly down the street in search of anything that might make her accept his proposal when he saw the bouquet of black roses in the shop window. He knew instantly that he'd found what he needed.

When Eva came to the shop the following week, Miss Gwendolyn explained the problem with black roses. Those who wanted them bought them in large quantities but most people just liked to window shop. Therefore Gwendolyn would continue to buy the black roses on a weekly basis, purchasing four bunches at 9 shills each week. She was willing to increase the price by a shill since the presence of black roses added prestige to their shop. When and if they received a large order from a particular customer, Miss Gwendolyn would send a servant to place the order with Eva.

Although it was one less bunch than she hoped, Eva secured a weekly income of 36 shills. She was not unhappy.

Running the numbers in her head, Eva was earning 7 shills from the pub and 36 shills from selling flowers each week. 43 shills each week equated to 172 shills each month.

Her expenses were 22 shills per month for their lodgings, 20 shills per week for Charlottes treatment. Another 10 shills for food and flower expenses combined. Reaching a total of 142 shills per month. Her profits would be exactly 30 shills per month.

Eva's eyes widened. She did it. All this time she felt as if she'd been stuck in a rabbit hole. Finally she found her footing and was able to pull herself up a little. There was light shinning on her from above ground. She couldn't stop smiling on her way home.

Eva exited the Main Street and walked into a quiet alley, not far from Miss Fifer's home. Perhaps she should pay her a visit.

A slight chill swept over her shirt collar, prickling the flesh on her neck. Eva looked up to find a dark figure standing at the end of the alley. She paused, uneasy. It wasn't just the ordinary drunkard of beggar loitering, but a tall broad man standing in the middle of the narrow alley, blocking her way.

Keeping her head low, she turned around deciding to take a different way home.

Horse shoes rattled against the ground as a coach suddenly came to a halt at the other end of the alley, blocking her exit.

The coachman walked around to her side of the carriage and swung open the door. Gesturing for her to enter, "Mr. Evan, my master would like a word with you." He said, his voice carrying a subtle threat.

The interior of the carriage was made dark by the thick curtains that blocked out the daylight, the only thing Eva could discern was the outline of a shiny men's shoe and the end of a pant leg.

Glancing back at the other end of the alley, the man blocking her path had closed the distance, looming just a few meters behind her. Fear gripped her, realizing there was no escape. Clutching the barrel straps over her shoulders, Eva cautiously approached the carriage.

Although dim inside, Eva strained her eyes enough to make out the spacious and luxurious interior: plush red silk cushioning that matched the rich velvet curtains. On a protruding desk under the opposite window lay an object shrouded in gloom.

Inside the carriage were two figures. The first was the man Eva caught a glimpse of while outside, the body connected to the fancy shoe and pant leg. He was approaching his forties with a thick salt and pepper beard, a sturdy build, and most noticeably, a piercing gaze that pinned Eva to the back of her seat. He raised his fist and rapped twice on the wooden panelling. With the neigh of horses, the carriage spurred forward. The second person remained slumped against the corner of the carriage, an unsettling presence shrouded in a shadow that Eva's eyes couldn't adjust to. All she could make out was the frumpy figure of a woman.

Mustering up her courage after a long stretch of silence, Eva asked, "What do you want from me?"

A deep chuckled sounded from the man across from her. He retrieved the object from the desk and dangled it from his long index finger. Eva squinted at it, recognising the familiar piece of lace she sold to the dressmakers a week prior. It was the squared of lace Miss Fifer gave to her.

A grave feeling washed over Eva. She looked back up at the man, many questions spilling out of her eyes.

"Mr. Evan, I'm not a patient man. Tell me where you got this, and you can go free."