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HERBALIST/ALCHEMIST: A LOVE STORY



When the sun rose over the rooftops of the city, the market square was already bustling with activity. A veritable menagerie of vendors and traders of every sort were setting up their stalls, and the first costumers of the day were already browsing the myriad goods. From the spice merchant's stall drifted heady aromas speaking of far-off hinterlands, and the junk dealer had curiosities to delight any sensibility cluttering his store. The market held its dangers, as well- one never knew if the old beggar by the roadside was a cutpurse in disguise, or if the merchant one was dealing with was a shameless mountebank looking to peddle counterfeit goods. But the city militia patrolled the stalls and kept trouble in check, and the air of the plaza was filled with the promise of prosperity for its inhabitants, as well as with the clink of copper, silver and gold.



Herminia's humble stall was set up, as usual, in an out-of the way corner of the market. Claiming a prime spot in the competitive marketplace took a force of will that she lacked, and so she had to settle with a shadowy spot, wedged in between the counting house and the candlestick maker's shop. She told herself that it hardly mattered- customers were few and far between. By evening she walked the hills beyond the city walls, gathering herbs, and by day she sold them in the market. The money she made was meager, barely enough to support her small cottage on the edge of town, but she got by, day in and day out.



There was one thing that kept Herminia going, that brought her out of reverie of the passing days. His name was Albert, and he was her most loyal and regular customer- indeed, her only customer that could be said to be regular or loyal at all. He was an alchemist employed by the king's court, and each day he came down to visit Herminia, and each day his visit was the highlight of her day.



Today she sat behind the counter of her stall in a simple brown dress and white cap. Basil, thyme, mint and sage were lined up before her, their familiar scents putting her into a sleepy haze. Every once in awhile, a customer would round the corner and inspect her wares, and Herminia would reflexively perk up, hoping to see Albert. But he rarely visited until the late afternoon, and so she would settle back on her stool as the stranger looked disinterestedly over her goods. She was patient, though. She knew he would come.



The market was almost closed before she heard the familiar footsteps. This time, when she turned, she knew who she would see, and a soft smile was already forming on her lips.



Albert's appearance was, to put it mildly, somehwhat eccentric. His head was completely bald, but he made up for it with an exceptionally long beard, which had waxed into an absurd twist. To top it off, he often sported a pair of enormous goggles, which he wore about the town without a thought for the stares he drew. Herminia didn't care. When he smiled at her, it felt as if all the cares and worries of the world had melted away.



That same smiled graced Albert's features as he approached her now. Herminia felt her breath quicken.



Good evening, my dear, he said.



Good evening, Albert, she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She thought she might tumble from her stool.



The usual, if you please.



Her hands trembled as she reached beneath the counter, fumbling until they found the round blue flask. The contents sloshed noisily, and her eyes lingered on the container before she passed it carefully into Albert's waiting hands. It contained a potion of her own devising, a mixture of herbs that invigorated the body and energized the mind. Albert drank one almost every evening. He worked for the king himself, and his long nights in the castle laboratory took a toll on him. Herminia's potion, so he said, was the only thing that he had found that gave him the energy to maintain his work. She often wondered why he did not buy it in bulk, or have it delivered to the castle. She dared to let herself hope that he had another reason to come down to market to visit her.



As Albert took the potion from her, he bowed slightly. Thank you, Herminia. I don't know what I would do without you. He dug a gold coin from his pocket and reached out to hand it to her, and like always, she cupped her hand to receive it. This time, however, as their hands made contact, he held the touch. His smile disappeared, and he bit his lip in hesitation. Herminia found herself frozen, not daring to breathe.



Herminia? he asked.



Yes, Albert?



I was wondering... in a fortnight, the princess will be throwing a party. A masquerade ball. A dreadfully tedious affair, really, but as a member of the court, I'm required to attend. I was hoping, perhaps, that you would like to accompany me.



Her heart was immediately filled with both excitement and dread. It was the moment Herminia had been waiting for for so long. Albert returned the feelings she had kept hidden for so long, and it was all she could do to stop herself from throwing herself into his arms. But the prospect of being at the palace, surrounded by those whose station in life was so far above hers, brought nothing but terror. She would be ridiculed, sneered at, laughed out. Albert would never want to see her again.



I... I don't know. The palace... I'm not sure if I belong there, Albert.



Albert's brow furrowed. My dear, there is nowhere in the this world that you wouldn't belong. He reached out, and Herminia felt all the warmth in her body rush to her face as he laid a hand on her cheeck. No one could look upon a face as beautiful and kindly as yours, and not think... He quickly pulled back his hand and cast his eyes downward. I apologize. I am being much too forward.



No, she said. Albert, I...



Herminia looked around at her spartan stall. All her life had been spent here, and she had never dared dream of anything greater. This was her chance at something more, something beyond the life of a simple herbalist. She would be a fool not to take. She couldn't just sit back and accept the hands that life dealt her. It was time to make her own shuffle luck.



I would love to, Albert.



He looked upon, and for a brief moment looked surprised. Then the smile returned to his face, and he took her hand once more. This time and leaned in and gave it a gentle kiss, the hairs of his beard tickling her fingertips.



Until tomorrow, Herminia.



Albert took his potion and left, and Herminia felt the urge to watch him until he was no longer in view. But she had business to attend to, and the market was closing, so she began to gather her product and shut down her stall. Besides, she would see him again tomorrow, and in a fortnight, she would have the evening of a lifetime.



TO BE CONTINUED??? (Probably not, I can't believe I wrote this, what am I doing with my life)