Inheriting Rebellion Chapter 1

A Story of Emre

The bell chimed as a customer walked into her shop. It wasn't really her shop, but Jullanes did most of the work. She made the clothes. She mended the tears. She opened the doors at sunrise and closed them at sunset, but it wasn't her shop. Nothing was hers anymore. 

A slender beam of light shone through the eastern-facing window. Specs of dust glimmered in the beam like stars creeping through an early evening sky. Jullanes set her needle and thread on top of her work-in-progress as quick footsteps ran behind a wall of azure fabric. The scent of fish and river water floated through the air.

"Who's there?" Jullanes said, knowing that it was her younger brother Rylanes. Jullanes tiptoed to the other side of the shop, hoping to cut her brother off, but there was nothing behind the hanging fabric when she flung it upward. 

"Must have been the wind," she said, listening for her brother's footsteps. Jullanes searched the shop systematically, looking in all of Rylanes's usual hiding places. He wasn't behind the spools of colored thread. He wasn't underneath the small, circular table where they shared most of their meals, and he wasn't in the nook under the stairs where he liked to read.

"Ry, come out. I know you're there," she said, knocking on a cupboard door, but when she opened it, all she could see was a well-used skillet. Where is he, she thought, looking for other hiding spots. After a few minutes, Jullanes relented and returned to her work. She needed to finish Adalynn's dress this morning. 

Jullanes pulled out her stool, but before she could sit down, her brother popped out from under the desk and kicked the stool over, causing Jullanes to collapse ungracefully. 

Rylanes rolled with laughter. "Too easy, Jules," he hissed from underneath her desk.

Jullanes rubbed her elbow, which took the brunt of the fall. "Not funny, Ry."

"I thought so," he said, dodging a playful kick. He grabbed Jullanes's hand and helped her up. 

"You're so clever; you're lucky you didn't rip Adalynn's dress," Jullanes said, dusting herself off and checking to make sure the dress wasn't damaged. 

"I thought it was already ripped."

"Well, yes, but you could have ripped it more. I'm nearly finished and don't feel like starting over." She sniffed. "Oh gods, you reek. Where have you been?"

Ry sniffed his armpit and shrugged. "Wil and I went fishing this morning." His shirt and face were covered with mud and his short, usually brown, hair was almost black. 

"You're filthy. Where are your shoes?" Jullanes said, looking at his wrinkled toes.

"Outside."

"Well, at least you had the decency to take them off," Jullanes said, scrunching her nose at her brother. 

Rylanes smiled. "I didn't want you to track my footsteps." 

"You mean you didn't want Alistair to see that you tracked mud in again," she said, returning his sly smile. "You better get cleaned up before he sees you like this. He'll be awake soon."

"But I caught us dinner–catfish, his favorite," Ry said, his eyes widening. 

Jullanes tilted her head. "I think Alistair would go hungry before letting a mud-covered hog enter his shop." 

"I'm not a hog."

"Honestly, it's hard to tell. A hog might smell better," Jullanes said, tilting her head. They both looked up as they heard movement from the bedroom upstairs. "I'd hurry if I were you." She did her best impression of a pig, making a deep grunting sound in her throat. 

Rylanes winced and ran out of the shop. 

Jullanes smiled as she followed Ry to the door. The silver bell chimed above her head. Rylanes gathered his boots and a massive catfish as he raced around the back of the shop, never noticing the stares of other merchants and townsfolk mingling in Malar's small shop district. She admired her brother's light-hearted optimism and resiliency, even if it bordered on negligence. 

"What's all that commotion?" a deep voice grumbled as a pair of brightly-polished boots appeared on the stairs. Jullanes dusted herself off and ran a hand through the curly knots in her hair, trying her best to look presentable before Alistair saw her. 

"Um. It was nothing, sir," Jullanes said, returning to her desk. 

She grabbed her needle and thread and began mending the dress just as the portly, gray-haired man appeared from behind a shelf of fabric. He wore an elegant ruby tunic with gold cuffs and a white collar. The ivory buttons were decorated with a tiny dragon sigil. Loose-fitting gray pants were tucked carefully into his mirror-polished black boots. "For the one-hundredth time, please call me Al if there is no one in the shop," he said as a kind smile formed under his thick, curled mustache. 

"Sorry, Al," Jullanes said, resuming her needlework. 

"Where's that good-for-nothing brother of yours?"

Jullanes avoided Alistair's gaze. "He's in the back." 

"He was here. I can smell him."

Alistair pushed open a window and lit several incense sticks throughout the shop as he talked. The potent smells of cedar, juniper, and pine combined into a powerful fragrance that Jullanes had not gotten used to since Alistair took them in last year. "The boy is a damn fish." 

"I called him a hog."

Alistair chuckled. "That might be more fitting." 

"He's supposed to be washing up, but we both know how good he is at that," Jullanes said, finishing the final touches on the dress. She held it up as Alistair came closer. "Good as new." 

Alistair examined her work thoroughly, carefully running his fingers over the new stitching. "This is fine work, Jules. Very fine." 

"Thank you," Jullanes said, tucking her sewing equipment back into the desk. "What's next?" 

"Some tea would do nicely," Alistair said. A kind, knowing smirk crept onto his face, tilting his mustache like a set of scales.  

As Jullanes walked to the kitchen, the bell rang. Alistair greeted the customer as the door swung closed behind her. "Ah, good morning, Adalynn." 

Their conversation morphed into murmurs while Jullanes retrieved the worn iron kettle from the counter. She filled it haphazardly, attaching it to the hook over the smoldering fire. Jullanes added a log to the embers as streaks of distractedly spilled water sizzled on the coals. Bright orange flames sprang to life while she slunk back to the door, trying to listen to Alistair. 

Their voices became clear as she gently cracked the door open. "Jullanes, yes, she's in the kitchen," Alistair said. Footsteps approached the door, and Jullanes darted back to the counter, attempting to look busy preparing Alistair's collection of florally decorated tea cups.

A tall young woman gently opened the door to the kitchen as if pushing it too hard might cause the door to fall off its hinges, an impossible task given her slender frame. She had wavy blond hair that cascaded over her protruding collarbones. Her narrow blue eyes sparkled when she saw Jullanes. 

"Jules," she said, wrapping her in a tender hug. 

Jullanes returned the hug tightly. "Belle, you're back. How was Barna?" 

Belle's smile faded. "Strange without you. It felt like a dream. Everything is so different from how I remember it." 

"How so?"

"The streets were crowded, less controlled. All the banners changed to that terrifying skull and everything is accented in a horrendous maroon color," Belle paused as if trying to decide what she could and could not say. "We stayed in the shopping district the whole week. Well, I stayed in the shopping district the whole week, so I didn't get to see the castle again," Belle grabbed Jullanes's hands kindly as she often did. "My, Alistair has been working you hard. Your hands are raw. Look at those calluses."

Jullanes pulled her hands back. "I don't mind. It passes the time - keeps me distracted." 

Belle smiled and put her hands in the tattered apron tied around her waist. "I've got something for you." 

"What is it?" Jullanes said.

"Close your eyes."

"Really, Belle?" 

"Just do it." 

"Fine," Jullanes said, closing her eyes. 

"Open your hand."

Jullanes opened her hand, and Belle placed something in her palm. It didn't weigh much, no more than an apple. It was wrapped in something soft like canvas or leather. The light, sweet fragrance of lemon reached her nose as she lifted her hand. "Is this what I think it is?" Jullanes said. She opened her eyes and saw a small canvas sack tied closed with a familiar golden ribbon. "It can't be. Lemon Honey Penydes from The Blushing Star?" 

Belle's smile slyly slid into a satisfied grin. "Your favorite."

Jullanes untied the bag, careful not to let any candy spill. Saliva pooled around her tongue as she grabbed one of the sweets. She popped it into her mouth, sucking it until it was soft enough to chew. The combination of tart and sweet flavors brought back images of her old home in Barna and the luxurious life she had never appreciated. Memories of her room in the castle took shape: her flowing emerald curtains that opened to a breathtaking view of the city, her collection of colorful dresses, and, of course, the piles of books stacked in every corner of the room. As the taste faded, a single image remained in her mind - her father, the usurped King Slavanes Greco. 

Jullanes sighed and tied the bag closed, savoring the last drop of the candy. "Even better than I remember. Reminds me of home," she said, trailing off.

"I think Naarah recognized me," Belle said. "She kept staring." 

"I miss Naarah, but I wouldn't worry. She's always been a little paranoid," Jullanes said. 

Belle shrugged. "She kept going on and on about thieves and how there's not enough city guards anymore." 

"Revolutions have consequences," Jullanes said as the kettle whistled to life. She grabbed a towel and poured steaming water into two cups. "Can you stay for tea?"

Belle looked at the door. "Probably not. Adalynn is in a hurry this morning." 

"Belmara," Adalynn yelled from the shop. "Come." 

"See," Belle huffed, straightening her apron. She stepped toward the door and turned around quickly like a rabbit listening for a predator. "Jules, we need to talk about something. Can you meet me under the bridge tonight?" 

Belle's demeanor turned oddly serious. "What is it?" Jullanes said, stepping toward her. 

"Belmara," Adalynn called in a more demanding tone. 

"I've got to go. Just meet me tonight. It's important," Belle said, pushing the door open. "Coming, ma'am." 

"I will," Jullanes whispered, following her into the shop. 

Adalynn was waiting by the door, holding the dress and tapping her foot. Her dark hair was streaked with gray and tied in a neat bun. "Come, Belmara. I haven't got all day." She seemed to give Jullanes a slight, kind smile as she handed Belle the dress. Belle waved apologetically underneath the dress in her arms as she followed Adalynn into the street. The chime from the door ushered in a wave of bustling conversation that poured into the shop like water through a broken dam. Jullanes watched Adalynn usher Belle between carts and people navigating the commotion expertly before they disappeared around the corner. 

"She was pleased," Alistair said, stepping next to Jullanes. "That's no easy task. You did well, but you forgot something..." 

Jullanes's stomach sank, and she bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. "What, sir?"

Alistair sighed, rubbed his hands together, and clicked his tongue. "My tea," he said. 

Want More Stories of Emre?

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