In the middle of the market.
With everyone watching.
At least, that’s likely how it appeared to the surprised villagers, Mahrree realized in humiliating remembrance later.
In truth, the captain’s arms were outstretched, because he had a jug in one hand, and a large bunch of flowers in the other, and a young child had just darted in front of him. That was what caused him to raise his arms upwards to avoid hitting the boy. He’d shouted the warning and then stepped awkwardly, losing his balance only to find himself within inches of Mahrree who had just spun around.
She also was unsteady on her feet as she turned suddenly, and found herself falling inexplicably towards him, her bread in one hand, her bag in another. With both of their hands full of goods, nothing prevented Mahrree’s face from colliding into the captain’s solid chest. She breathed in his earthy-yet-sweet-scent and her mind went blank. Blissfully, serenely blank.
And then he wrapped his arms around her.
It was only to steady themselves, she realized in another humiliated moment of remembrance later. It was the jug in his hand clanking against her head with a dull thud that sent her into such a juvenile swoon, she decided even later. That was why she couldn’t think properly for several minutes.
Instinctively she pushed away from him, trying not dwell on how firm his stomach was as she used it to brace herself.
“I’m so sorry!” Captain Shin exclaimed. “That child ran in front . . . I didn’t want to hit him, but I hit you instead—”
Filled with sudden sympathy for his anxiousness, Mahrree cut him off. “Not at all!” She rubbed the side of her head vaguely. “No harm done. My bread’s a little flattened, but I like it that way.” It sounded silly as it came out of her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Is that so?” he replied with an awkward smile. “I like flattened bread, too.” His voice trailed off and he looked down at the ground, his lips twitching as if they had wished something smarter had just left them.
His discomfort comforted her.
She began to notice something different around them. All the usual market noise and talk had stopped.
The captain looked up slowly at her face, then simultaneously they both looked around. The market was now a silent collective smile pointed in their direction. Mahrree estimated more than one hundred pairs of eyes were staring at them, and it was more unnerving than the thousands at the platform. She chanced a look at the captain.
His face was partly amused and partly pained. She had to fix it.
“So!” she said, a little too loudly but so that everyone around them could hear. “I thank you for helping me not to fall, and I’ll see you tomorrow evening.” She nodded to him formally, then to those around her, and began to march towards home.
In the wrong direction.
No one else moved but instead watched her take seven or eight steps, then abruptly turn to her right and continue in a line that curved around the still smirking villagers. She didn’t even dare look at the captain. She held her breath all the way, hoping she wouldn’t make another wrong turn.
A moment later the marketplace resumed its activity and noise, and Mahrree released a sigh of relief as she reached the edge of the shops to begin her walk home. She shook her head as she slowed her pace.
Stupid! Adolescent! There was no possible way he could not have noticed her blushing! She still felt flushed and hot, despite the cool breeze coming off the mountains. She couldn’t forget the feel of his arms around her, even if it was for just a moment.
She also couldn’t forget that she couldn’t remember where she lived.
She heard a few heavy footsteps pounding behind her and glanced back. To her surprise Captain Shin was on her heels. Behind him several villagers were grinning and one waved. Mahrree groaned softly as the captain stopped next to her and continued walking along side. She didn’t know what to do, so she kept up her pace.
“Umm,” he started inarticulately, “I’m glad I ran into you, or rather, fell, I guess it was.”
He hesitated and Mahrree peeked up into his face. She saw furrowed brows and a man at an unusual lack for words.
“What I mean is, I wanted to see you tonight before tomorrow’s debate.”
Mahrree didn’t know what to answer. He sounded different when he wasn’t in public.
Tender and tense at the same time.
“I’ve felt badly about some . . . actually many of the words that have passed between us. You know, we haven’t even been properly introduced? I don’t feel we’ve presented our best sides to each other yet, and I’d like to change that.”
Mahrree was pleasantly astonished. “You’re right. We should’ve been properly introduced. This may be only Edge, but we do have some rules of etiquette that we occasionally remember. But oh, that first debate was so long ago—nearly three weeks now.”