When I returned to my bedroom, the first thing I’d do would be to fortify my door.
The second thing would be to outlaw the snapping of fingers.
After all, while I had no expectation of the fae doing more than complaining as I flooded their eternal realm with piles of information leaflets, that didn’t apply to the denizens of the hells.
They at least pretended to acknowledge our laws … occasionally, that is.
Because other tis, they decided that only sothing with a small print was worth reading.
I blinked.
And all the night was gone. But that didn’t an there was no darkness to be had.
It was sowhere beyond these walls, weaving amidst flas that offered no warmth, but a chill as unnatural as the surface my palms were still pressed against.
However, this was no longer the white tea table Florella had chosen because it was just small enough to allow one suitor at a ti to harass her.
It was a wide wooden counter, polished to a mirror sheen.
And across it was a smile I chose to ignore.
Instead … I straightened myself and peered around .
Gone was the sight of Reitzlake glittering beneath a curtain of stars, so sudden that it could have been swept aside by the whims of a fae queen.
Yet this wasn’t the ho of any season, for beyond this chamber of fashionable walnut, neither poetry nor twilight existed to paint the sky.
There were only shadows and flas.
… And also whatever hats were discarded through the windows.
Wherever the windows were, that is.
Like the bookcases of a grand library stacked upon each other, endless shelves adorned the walls, stretching to a ceiling decorated with a golden chandelier. Gleaming with a dazzling light, it shone with all the vigour of the moon that had been taken from , revealing each and every item on display.
All of them hats.
And all of them glittering regardless of material.
Every shape, every size and every function was present.
There were straw hats fit for a farr in the fields. Iron helts the sa as those churned out by blacksmiths for war. And tiaras the likes of which would make a troll drool as they conceived how much to sell it to a princess for.
Particularly as even they would rarely be afforded an invitation to such a place.
Their carriages could take them many places. But the depths of the hells were not one of them … probably.
“Your Highness,” said the devil, his enthusiastic tone filled with a rchant’s candour. “I bid you welco to the Emporium of Crowns.”
I turned toward my host … just as a string quartet began to play.
Two violins. A viola. A cello.
Plus the imps needed to control the various bits.
As Fantasia in E Minor, Op. 17 started to fill the chamber, they floated behind the hat rchant, adding a touch of ceremony that their master was otherwise failing to fulfil.
Still wearing his common garnts, he gestured as if pointing out wares on a stall.
He could have pointed anywhere and it would have landed upon sothing emperors would have fought over. Likely since they once had.
“Quite the collection, no?” said the hat rchant, the pride reflected in his eyes. “You stand amidst the finest repository of headwear ever curated. From the hats of commoners to the crowns of those whose nas I dare not speak, there are items of both historical insignificance and unbridled power to be found here. Please. Go ahead. Browse at your leisure. Take your ti. You needn’t be pressured.”
The hat rchant patiently smiled. And so I obliged.
But it wasn't the hats I regarded.
Despite it being a shop, there was almost a sense of holiness to it.
The walnut interior was furnished with boutique chairs, silken carpets, side tables and mirrors, as though each and every custor could relax while having their soul eaten. And deliberately placed to earn my approval, a full-size St. Liane grand piano sat in the corner, cordoned off so that nobody would drop it from the sky.
I nodded in acknowledgent.
Mostly to the string quartet. They were not the worst I heard. A 6.5/10.
“Bathroom,” I said, turning back to the counter.
“Excuse ?”
“Your bathroom. I’ve need of it. Where is it?”
The hat rchant blinked, then tactfully nodded.
He gave a small wave of his hand.
A door appeared which hadn’t existed before, lighting up a rare part of the wall where no shelves adorned it.
I duly went over and opened it, my eyes montarily wincing to the brightness of the grand bathroom within. White marble and gold flooded my eyes, followed shortly by the scent of citrus and the background noise of a flowing waterfall.
I went to the nearest sink, then promptly began collecting anities.
Soap bars, hair combs, various creams, hand towels, toothbrushes and more were stuffed into my bottomless pouch. Then, I pulled open the drawers beneath the sink and did the sa with the remaining toiletries, pausing to admire myself in a hand mirror that I also took.
Once satisfied, I exited the bathroom then returned to the counter where the hat rchant was steadfastly saying nothing at all.
“... Do you have any cutlery?” I inquired.
The hat rchant paused.
“I do, yes. However, I’m afraid that while the Emporium of Crowns offers many things, items related to dining functions are not one of them. It would diminish my brand.”
I nodded, already eyeing the cushions on the chairs and how small I could squeeze them.
“I see. How disappointing. To be dragged to the hells without permission is an experience so scandalous that few will believe . It seems a sha to leave without even a branded napkin as evidence.”
“Then allow to fix that. I’ve no branded napkins to offer, but the Emporium of Crowns boasts the finest collection of hats to exist either above or below your kingdom. And for one as discerning as yourself, I’m certain you can find a souvenir that will be to your liking.”
“I’m certain I will. And if you provide with a brochure, I can offer a copy to every thief I co across after you send back.”
“Certainly. I can provide a full catalogue. However, I’m afraid it might be so ti before I’m able to ensure your safe return. There is only a single door to the Emporium of Crowns, and it is quite busy.”
“Oh? Is that because business has been so poor that you’ve resorted to ushering custors straight through it?”
“On the contrary, I’m delighted to say that business has never been heartier. So long as either rain or aspiration exists, then I shall never find myself a pauper.”
“You’ve yet to experience a poor review by , then. To be a pauper is the only fate remaining. But perhaps this will be a chance for you to do sothing useful. As you’re now missing several bars of soap, would you like to work towards rectifying this issue?”
The hat rchant gave a chuckle.
I hardly saw why. Soap Island was open to all hoodlums, no matter where they were from.
“A very tempting offer,” he said, allowing himself to almost sound regretful. “And one I would perhaps consider in less interesting tis. But I am no fae queen prone to boredom. Especially with custors as esteed as yourself.”
“I am no custor. I am a princess. And while this ans I’m accustod to every rogue within my kingdom hoping to kidnap , that does not apply to those far underneath it as well. Are laws no longer fashionable in these parts?”
“You needn’t worry in that regard, Your Highness. Laws are what separates the heavens and the hells. To disregard them is the purview of angels. I am a devil. And I am far more civilised.”
“I see. So it’s just subtlety you’ve decided to do away with.”
The hat rchant gestured to the chandelier.
“Subtlety is our guiding star. But just as a sailor might disregard Lady Lumielle’s light to avoid a siren’s nest, so too might a devil put aside their traditions in order to stay afloat. Here in the hells, the current sweeps ever forwards, and to linger is to drown.”
“In that case, I suggest building a raft.”
“Were I my lesser rivals, perhaps. Even as the centuries co and go, they remain fixed wholly on keeping their chins just above the infernal waters of the River Styx. But I am a rchant. Why build a raft when I could buy a ship?”
“My apologies, but my ship is not for sale. You’ll need to look elsewhere.”
“And elsewhere I am. That’s why I look towards you. A princess as fad for her kindness as her beauty.”
“This princess is currently far more beautiful than she is kind. For while my natural charms and modesty have no limits, my sense of patience does. I do not take well to being kidnapped.”
The hat rchant feigned a look of surprise.
If a troll could be seen behind their armour whenever I suggested they were charging more than what was reasonable, this is what they would look like.
“Your Highness, I would never dare kidnap you. I hold you in far too much respect.”
“Words at clear odds with your actions. But I needn’t be the judge of that. Should I choose a chair to sit in while I wait for your betters to decide that?”
“By all ans. The Emporium of Crowns is yours to enjoy at your leisure. But I regret that the judgent you hope for will not co to pass, for you are here with permission from the Queen of Tides, who claims all the waters of the mortal realm as her own. Your presence upon one of her lakes was unwanted. I am therefore facilitating your safe return back to your kingdom as a neutral party.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“My, quite the diplomat. And yet I see you’ve taken the scenic route from my lake to my docks. You appear to have lost the way. Again. A common problem with you, I see.”
“Rest assured, the road may ander, but I never do. The Queen of Tides does not rule the Kingdom Under The Sea with her singing alone. Had I tried to ferry you across the very short distance to your docks, her fins would have conjured a whirlpool that would have sucked you to the depths.”
“The Queen of Tides does not have a claim over a single seashell in my kingdom. She has no right to giggle at , much less decide where I go. And nor do you.”
The hat rchant raised his palms.
“She is a queen and has a claim. That it differs from yours is not a matter I'm placed to judge.”
I leaned slightly towards the devil. He leaned slightly away.
“... Even for the mischief of devils, that is such a stretch that only my cheeks are more pliable. I think I will wait and hear what your peers have to say.”
For a mont, only the sound of background noise in the form of a privacy waterfall could be heard.
And also the very smallest of coughs.
“Ahem … of course, it’s entirely possible that others may disagree with my intervention. But as an entrepreneur whose profession is risk taking, I’m willing to endure the scolding for a chance to entice one of the few custors to have slipped through my fingers. It certainly wasn’t cheap. The Queen of Tides might be a rmaid, but nothing about her prices is flippant.”
“Then I see why you didn’t try bribing instead. To earn a eting with is a cost no rchant of hats could afford.”
I waited for the look of indignation.
He instead offered the nearest thing to a sigh.
“A truth even I cannot ignore. Naturally, I’d considered donating one of my prized crowns, valued in the range of hundreds of thousands of gold crowns, just to tempt a conversation with . But I knew you wouldn’t be swayed, such is the virtue you bear in your heart.”
“Indeed … especially when hundreds of thousands of gold crowns is clearly an inaccurate number.”
“Correct. I'm understating. I would have given sothing worth so much that other kingdoms would literally bankrupt themselves to purchase it. You would never want for crowns again. But as a princess, I understand that such unworthy matters as coins an little to you.”
I paused.
“O-Ohohoho … ! Q … Quite so … ! I am a virtuous princess … whose heart cannot be swayed by thoughts of having all my financial issues disappear in a puff of wind ... !”
“Of course. Yours is a will that cannot be bought.”
“T-That’s right! Your words cannot move –least of all now! … You’ve chosen a poor ti to seek my soul. Unlike before, there’s no naked lich or errant goddess to inconvenience . And as alarming as a dribbling rat is, I’ve shooed away worse!”
The hat rchant nodded … just as the string quartet began to play with slightly more gusto.
“True. A rat is a poor foe even compared to the past rodents who have tried to undermine you. But the reason I have stretched the limits of infernal legalism to invite you to my emporium is not to make a contract in black or red. Although I am a rchant, I co not as a peddler at your gates seeking to bargain. I am not here for your soul, your riches or your hand in marriage in exchange for my infernal powers. I wish for sothing more, and at a cost to you that is truly free.”
The hat rchant stepped away from the polished counter.
Then, he offered a bow so low that nothing of his amicable smile could be seen.
“Your Highness, what I wish … is to pledge my service to you.”
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