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The market seemed to have stolen pieces from every kingdom in the Magnificent North. Silk canopies billowed overhead like captured sunsets, casting the cobbled street in shifting shades of amber and rose. The air smelled of warm cinnamon, polished cedarwood, and the sweetness of fruit ripened beneath the sun. Merchants called to passing travellers in half a dozen accents, their voices weaving together with the distant trill of a street performer’s flute until the entire street became its own kind of melody.
Evangeline drifted through it as though she’d stepped into one of the fairytales she had adored as a child. Her fingertips lingered over embroidered ribbons that shimmered with woven starlight. She paused beside a display of tiny glass birds, each one frozen mid-flight, their wings catching the afternoon light until they appeared ready to soar from the shelf. Every few moments another wonder caught her eye, pulling her in a different direction.
Jacks followed a pace behind her. Not because he was particularly interested in the market, but because he was interested in watching her discover it. He seemed entirely bored out of his mind, yet the corners of his mouth threatened to betray him more than once.
“You realise,” he drawled after she’d stopped for what had to be the seventh stall in as many minutes, “you’ve admired everything except the things we’re actually here to buy.”
She looked over her shoulder, sunlight threading itself through her rose gold ringlets. “That's because all the interesting things are the ones we don’t need.”
Just then, a merchant called out— not to a random passerby, not to Evangeline, but to Jacks.
“Ah, good sir, you’re back!” The familiar greeting cut cleanly through the bustle of the crowd.
Jacks closed his eyes and cursed under his breath before sighing, “...Not today.”
An elderly fruit merchant leaned over a cart overflowing with polished apples of various colours, his weathered face splitting into a grin as bright as morning. “I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” he laughed.
Evangeline slowed, her gaze flicking from the merchant to Jacks with quiet curiosity. “Do you know this merchant, Jacks?” she asked, tilting her head.
“I should hope so,” the man chortled, already reaching for a paper sack. “He buys my apples quite often.”
Jacks looked as though he'd rather face another curse. “I simply buy fruit,” he said calmly, jaw tensing.
The merchant snorted. “Oh, don't be modest, lad. You are my favourite customer, after all.”
Evangeline folded her arms, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. “Favourite?” she echoed, a teasing smile pulling at her lovely lips.
“He never leaves without at least a dozen,” the elderly man continued.
“...A dozen?”
“Sometimes more,” he considered.
She looked at Jacks again, eyebrows lifting, grinning now.
Jacks pinched the bridge of his nose. “There were extenuating circumstances.”
“I’m sure there were,” Evangeline murmured, her smile growing even brighter.
The merchant chuckled, clearly delighted by Jacks’s discomfort.
“Well, if you’re buying fruit again today, I’ve got some particularly sweet apples.”
“I’m not here for apples.”
The old man blinked. “Then what are you here for?”
Jacks glanced at Evangeline.
She was still looking at him with that infuriatingly pleased little smile.
“Nothing,” he said.
Evangeline’s eyebrows rose. “Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“You dragged me halfway across the market for nothing?”
“I said I needed to buy something.”
“And yet you’ve spent the last ten minutes following me around while I look at ribbons.”
“I’m beginning to regret that decision.”
“You're a terrible liar.”
Jacks gave her a dry look and rolled his eyes. Before he could answer, she continued farther down the market, leaving the elderly fruit merchant behind, and he trailed after her dutifully.
A few stalls later, Evangeline slowed again.
In front of her was yet nother stall, smaller than the others, its wooden frame draped in deep green velvet. Tiny charms and trinkets hung from delicate silver chains, catching the afternoon light whenever the breeze passed through.
Every single thing on display was gorgeous, and Evangeline just had to have a closer look, until she noticed that Jacks was looking at her rather expectantly.
Evangeline glanced back at him. “What?” she demanded.
“You stopped,” he remarked.
“I can stop.”
“You're staring, you know. You want something.”
“I believe I can stare at things, yes,” she nodded.
“Little fox,” he let out a long suffering sigh, before he looked over to where he'd gaze was currently fixed.
Hanging near the back of the stall was a little golden hairpin. It was shaped like a tiny fox curled around a sprig of wildflowers, its tail sweeping elegantly along the length of the pin. A handful of tiny amber stones had been set into its body, making it shimmer whenever it caught the light.
“Oh,” Jacks looked at her.
“It’s pretty, isn't it?” she smiled.
The merchant, a young woman with silver beads braided into her dark hair, smiled knowingly. “It’s handmade,” she explained. “The fox is meant to bring good fortune to its wearer.”
Evangeline leaned closer to inspect it. “It’s beautiful.”
Jacks reached into his coat.
Evangeline immediately noticed. “No.”
He paused. “No?” he repeated incredulously.
“You’re not buying it.”
“I haven’t bought anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I was going to ask for the price.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I disagree.”
She turned toward him, giving him a suspicious look. “Jacks,” she said firmly.
He ignored her and looked toward the merchant. “How much is it?”
“It’ll be five coins,” the merchant told him with an easy smile.
Evangeline’s eyes narrowed at him. “Jacks, I’m telling you—”
The coins were already in his hand as he shrugged,“Too late.”
The merchant accepted them with a smile and carefully lifted the hairpin from its display.
Evangeline stared at him. “You didn’t have to buy it, you know,” she told him.
“I know.”
The lack of hesitation in his tone finally made her go quiet.
He took the hairpin from the merchant and held it out to her. She hesitated only slightly before accepting it.
The tiny fox rested delicately against her palm, the amber stones glowing warmly in the afternoon sunlight.
Her expression softened.“It is rather lovely,” she murmured.
Jacks shrugged. “It suits you, Little Fox.”
Evangeline looked up at him, and for once, he seemed almost uncomfortable beneath her gaze.
“You think so?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. Not her usual bright, glittering smile. It was something smaller, something warmer.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Jacks looked away, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make it a big thing.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were.”
“I was just going to say that you’re sweet.”
His head snapped back toward her. “I am not sweet, darling. I am not even remotely close to that category.”
Her smile grew now as he pressed on, “You bought me a hairpin because I stared at it for too long. You are most definitely sweet.”
“It was practical,” was his grumbled reply.
“A fox hairpin is practical?”
“It keeps your hair out of your face,” he defended.
She looked down at the delicate little thing in her palm. “Jacks, it’s decorative.”
“It can be both.”
She shook her head, still smiling. Then, without warning, she stepped closer.
Jacks barely had time to react before she rose onto her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
He entire body froze. He may have been a terrible flirt, but every time she kissed him, it felt as though his own heart would skip a beat, contrary to popular myths.
Evangeline pulled back, looking entirely pleased with herself. “There,” she hummed, sounding rather pleased with herself.
Jacks stared at her. “What was that for?”
“For the hairpin.”
“That was a terrible bargain.”
“You’re the one who bought it for me,” she pointed out.
Jacks glanced down at the little fox hairpin, still resting in her hand.
Then, quietly, he said, “Put it on.”
Evangeline blinked. “Now?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Okay then. Help me out, please?”
She turned slightly, gathering her curls away from her face as Jacks carefully took the hairpin from her. His fingers were endlessly gentle as he slid it into place.
“There,” he murmured.
Evangeline touched the little fox.“How does it look?”
Jacks looked at her for a moment before he replied, his voice low, “Beautiful. You are utterly beautiful, Little Fox.”
“What about the hairpin, Jacks?” she giggled, though there was now a rosy hue dusting her cheeks.
“Worth every coin,” he informed her.