"It's the tyrant's mate!"
The words struck harder than the stone.
Everything stopped.
All around her, heads turned, eyes locked, voices dropped into an eerie, angry silence. The cheerful hum of the market bled out of existence, replaced by a chorus of whispers and tension that clung to the air like smoke.
"Did he send you?" a woman hissed, eyes wide with fury.
"Are you here to poison us too?"
"She's just like him. Look at her… same eyes, same arrogance."
Emerald's mouth opened, but no sound came. Her voice felt lodged in her throat.
Another stone struck her shoulder.
Then a tomato hit her boot.
"Wait!" she tried to say, but the growing noise of the crowd swallowed her voice.
Whispers became grumbles, grumbles became shouts.
"Spy!"
"Monster's bride!"
The boy, the one she'd just bought the pastry for, was still standing near her, clutching the sweet. A woman rushed out of the crowd, probably his mother, and grabbed him by the arm.
