"Are you worried that your handkerchief will not be found?" Rory asked when Elain did not respond to something she had said.
Elain sighed. "It is the only thing my mother left to me."
Aware of the story between Elain and her late mother, Rory's gaze softened. "You are not someone who would accidentally drop personal belongings when going out, so I don't think you lost it on the way back to Ferrygrove. The maid must have misplaced it somewhere in the mansion, and perhaps she'd already found it by now," she assured, smiling at her cousin to cheer her up. "How about we buy some new hairpins?"
As Elain did not want to ruin the day, she tucked her worries away for the moment and smiled. They found a nearby stall run by a familiar merchant.
"A pleasure to see you again, Lady Rory and Lady Elain," said the merchant, Perton, who was from another city and only came here every couple of months. "I have new designs of hairpins and other accessories."
"And colourful trinkets too!" Rory chirped, smiling widely like a child when she saw the little porcelain dolls. "Isn't it amazing, Elain?"
"They are lovely indeed."
While the two women busied themselves, they did not notice a young boy approaching at full speed. Unlike most people at the fair, who wore fine clothes, the boy was dressed in worn garments that marked him as lower class. As he ran, he kept glancing back at his pursuer with a frightened expression.
Unaware of the boy rushing toward her, Elain stepped back from the Perton's stall when she noticed another stall she had not seen before. In that instant, the boy who was still looking behind him collided into her back. He fell onto the ground while Elain nearly lost her balance.
"I-I'm so sorry!" the boy blurted as he scrambled to his feet. He was about to run again when a large hand seized him by the collar of his shirt.
"Are you alright?" Rory asked Elain.
Elain nodded, but her attention was fixed on the young boy before her who appeared to be no older than ten, and the burly man holding him. She immediately recognized the man's uniform as that of a town guard.
"You piece of filth, how dare you run from me?"
"Please, let me go! I didn't do it! I didn't steal anything!"
The boy struggled against the guard's grip, but he was no match for the man's strength. Tears streamed down his face.
The small commotion quickly drew the attention of nearby onlookers. Being members of high society, many regarded the boy with open disgust, assuming it was yet another case of a peasant stealing from the upper class. Some even stepped closer, eager to witness his punishment.
Elain's chest tightened at the sight of the boy's teary eyes. He looked so young and vulnerable. She was aware that some people from the lower class resorted to stealing due to a lack of food, but she believed that if only the system could change, if the lower class were given more opportunities for better livelihood and education, young children like this boy could choose a different path.
But changing a system that had governed the world for centuries was nothing more than a fantasy for those with kind hearts, for such a change would require the cooperation of many.
"Sir, I didn't steal it! Please believe me!" the boy continued to plead, which earned him a slap from the town guard. He fell to the ground, shaking and crying.
It was not the first time Elain had witnessed such violence, as the upper class often displayed their dominance by punishing those beneath them in public, but seeing a young boy struck before her made her stomach twist.
"If you run again, I promise I will break one of your bones, and you will not like the pain, rat."
"What did the boy steal, if I may ask?" Elain spoke before she could stop herself. Rory, beside her, lightly tugged at her arm, silently warning her not to involve themselves in the town guard's affairs.
The guard's eyes fell on Elain. Unfamiliar with her face, and seeing how plainly she was dressed, he did not think her someone of importance. His gaze narrowed.
"He's a servant from Mr. Rouge's household who stole a large chunk of meat."
So he had only stolen food? Elain thought. Perhaps he was starving or had taken it to share with his family, if the accusation were true. But if it were not, would it not be too cruel to punish him for such a small crime?
It was a pity that so many among the high society were so unforgiving.
"I didn't do it!" the boy cried. As he lay on the ground with his bruised cheek, Elain felt he was telling the truth.
She wanted to tell the guard that there must be some mistake, but investigations were rarely carried out in such cases. Once the upper class pointed their fingers at the lower class, the latter would pay the price, whether guilty or not.
She bit her lip and looked away. She knew her words would not matter, and she might only invite trouble if she interfered with the authorities.
"It is only a piece of meat. There is no need to cause a commotion in the middle of a pleasant day, Holland," came a voice.
Elain turned toward the man stepping into the small crowd. She knew of him, not because they had spoken before, but because she had seen him a few times in the streets, where people addressed him by name.
Among the wealthy noblemen she had heard of, Matheu Everard was one of the few who seemed to be a decent person.
That judgment was not based solely on hearsay, but on what Elain had witnessed herself. In the few times she had glimpsed him, his demeanor had been humble, and he spoke to those of lower standing with a kindness that many in high society did not care to show.
Meanwhile, in one of the buildings surrounding the fair, a pair of eyes watched the scene unfold from behind a window.