In the vast kingdom of Crustul, people from all walks of life began their day with joy knowing that the annual Week of Rivelazione was beginning. The week-long jamboree celebrated the beginning of spring where the veil between their realm and the 'other' realm was thin. The events within those weeks determined if one lived a great, decent, or bad year. Despite such a gamble, everyone enjoyed it.
The citizens almost danced around, setting up for the celebration. The rich were busy stuffing themselves inside layers of extravagant gowns and suits for the masquerade. The middle class were busy rushing around, prepping their homes to look festive while dressing themselves up to be a part of the parade while the poor set out to protect themselves from the mischievous spirits that were aching to mess with them. Even the serfs were in good moods, slaving about with a smile on their face as their workload was less harsh than the rest of the year.
A vagabond stared in joy at all the happy people, her face similar to that of the sun. So bright despite being caked in dirt. Her arm was loosely wrapped around the sticks of her bindle to hold it securely in place as she leisurely strolled through the streets.
Her breaking shoes kicked up the dirt of the road that resided on the poor side of town. The stench of the lower class' lack of cleanliness was quickly being dealt with, as seen from a family bathing in front of their run down-home, uncaring if anyone saw. She waved to the woman who was making sure her children stayed in the tub. The woman grinned at her before going back to barking motherly commands at the children to scrub their faces of everything to the point they didn't feel even the natural oils.
The vagabond chuckled, shaking her head in amusement as she continued on her way. Everywhere, everything was jolly. Everyone was smiling, loving every bit of the day.
She hopped onto a stone retaining wall, whistling a made-up tune. Her voice carried out into the open air, combining with the chirping of small birds that flew around, reflecting the energy of the people. One of the gorgeous rich blue swallows landed on the tip of her bindle.
It snuck into the small gap of the cloth tied onto the sticks, taking the woman's last biscuit and flying to the top of her messy short hair. The small bird gobbled it down, letting the crumbs drop into the greasy strands on her head. It quickly flew off with more chirps after it ate every last bit of the woman's final biscuit, flying over to a girl sitting upon a large rock.
The girl's behaviours were drastically different from the rest of the city's. Frail and unclean, she wept into her hands. Her arms were shielded by the dirty browns sleeves of a shirt that hid underneath the short-sleeved ecru shaded dress. The dress was even more worn down than the shirt that clung to her, making it clear she was a lower class maiden.
The vagabond frowned, hopping off of the retaining wall and making her way to the poor girl. She was too busy weeping to herself to notice the arrival of the wandering homeless woman. Her hands shielded her face leaving only her dirtied, knotty tan hair to identify her.
"Excuse me, little miss!" The Vagabond exclaimed in concern, "By golly, what's got you so down?"
The girl peeked up revealing buttermilk yellow eyes that were squinting due to the bright rays of the sun. The whites were red and tears still streamed down her face like drips from a leaky faucet. The kicked puppy look of the girl caused the vagabond to pity her even more.
"The rah-royal parade is hap-happening at the end of the week." She whimpered, trying her best to stop her crying.
"Oh..." The vagabond hummed out.
The girl moved a loose, crisp strand from her face, lips quivering. "I really want to be in it. I heard the best there gets a prize! But look at me!" She exclaimed holding her arms out, "I look terrible! My hair is way too dirty and ratty. My skin is not at all flawless and the stains of sweat and grime are much too thick. My clothes aren't even breathtaking. I'm just a mere peasant girl!"
The vagabond frowned as she listened, thinking hard about how to make this girl as happy as everyone else. It was a week-long celebration! No one should spend it being down. Her finger brushed her chin as the girl went on.
"This is embarrassing—" The girl trailed off, covering her cheeks, "—Speaking to a stranger this way... Sorry."
Just then, a light bulb went off in the wandering woman's head. Looking around there was enough to make use with: candy hearts, marshmallows, peppermint stumps, chocolate cherry trees. There wasn't as much sugary goodness in the slums as there was on the posh side of the city, but she could definitely make use of it all.
"I have an idea!" She exclaimed, "Let's just get you squeaky clean, first!"
The girl watched in confusion as the woman gingerly grabbed her hands to help her stand up from the stone. "Now, I've been here a few times to know there's a river in these parts... Oh, wait, do you have a tub?" Asked the woman, stopping herself from leading the girl away from her rock.
"No, I'm afraid my home is an older building," The girl answered, growing sad once more.
It reminded her that she was poor. There was no way she could get pretty things and look beautiful. It was work, work, work for money with little time to rest and no time to look after herself. All she could get when she decided to move out of her parent's home was a shabby old thing next to the family house.
"I'd say!" The woman exclaimed, agreeing that the building is old. Houses nowadays, even in the slums, were being built with tubs that had running water. Those houses were even beginning to reach the rural villages. Houses without tubs or with tubs without running water were old news.
She caught the frown upon the girl's face and quickly patted the girl's back, "Don't be so in the dumps! I'll make you the most saccharine one in that parade!"
"Say, do you have a name, missy?"
The girl frantically nodded. "It's Sugar! Sugar Nazareth!" She answered.
A blush overcame her cheeks as the vagabond chuckled at her. She didn't know if she said anything funny, and she couldn't help being embarrassed if so.
"Sugar? That's one fitting name," She hummed out, "Well, you can call me Ginger. It's nothing too fancy."
Ginger continued with Sugar in tow. She was led into the thinly wooded area where the soft noise of water was getting closer. The blue swallow from before followed them closely, hopping amongst the ground.
Sugar rushed to the bank of the river that came into view, dipping her hand in. Her eyes widened as she checked the temperature, turning to stare at Ginger. She shook her hand as she stood back up.
"It's cold! Do I have to go into this?" She questioned.
Ginger only grinned and looked down at herself. "Sure do! I'll even go in with ya! 'Bout time I wash anyway." She commented as she shrugged off her torn and patched jacket.
Sugar pondered for a second before stripping bare while the vagabond had her back turned and crept into the water, shivering as the icy liquid blanketed her. Her arms hugged herself tightly, trying to suppress the shivers of her body and heat the goosebumps that formed. She couldn't help but note that this would've been better in the summer where there was hot weather to balance the chilling water.
But she was still grateful to finally feel the water for the first time in forever. Her parents never allowed her to bathe or swim since she was young. They kept her busier than ever in the hot seasons and especially during the Week of Rivelazione. In fact, she barely remembered what she needed to do.
"This is swell," Sighed Ginger, stopping just an arm's length away from Sugar.
Her once tousled short ginger hair was dripping wet, flattened against her head after she dunked herself under the surface. A small laugh left her as she quickly hugged herself for warmth. She slowly lowered herself into the water once more, stopping so only her neck and head were showing.
Water sloshed around them as Ginger began hurriedly scrubbing her face of grime. Forgetting about the frigid river, Sugar watched her actions before repeating them. She didn't notice Ginger staring at her in amusement as she went to wash her hair. Her eyes peeking open as her head tilted back into the liquid, fingers massaging her scalp.
Sugar had washed her face with the inexperience of a child and her copying Ginger was for nought as she winced as she tried to move her hand through her tied locks. Even near the roots of her hair, there were knots, waiting for her to try to undo them so they can attack her scalp with more pain than she could take.
"Here," Ginger said, standing up to help her, "Let's untie your hair first."
She gently took out the strand of cloth that kept her messy lower bun up. Of course, the strip of cloth didn't come without a few pieces of blonde hair wrapped snuggly around it. Ginger wrapped it around her wrist despite the dingy condition of it and grazed the length of the girl's hair with the tips of her fingers. The ends of the blonde strands reach just to her hip, causing the woman to deadpan.
Long hair was a chore, that's why she kept her hair short. Washing it was even more tedious than keeping it out of the way or having it weigh down your head. It was torture if she had to deal with any difficult knots... Which she could tell she would need to.
"This is gonna hurt, now." Stated Ginger, lowering Sugar so that the bottom of her hair emerged.
Almost immediately, Sugar winced as Ginger broke through a knot. Her eyes teared up before the woman patted her shoulder in a comforting manner. "We still have a long way to go, just hang in there," Her hushed voice hummed out.
It might have taken quite a few minutes to get done with the bottom half of her hair. The only good thing about that time was that Sugar slowly got settled and progress was made with little whining. Sugar had closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain of Ginger getting to the worst part of her hair.
She inhaled sharply as stinging erupted, squeezing her already shut eyes. However, a lingering scent caused her to falter. The smell of molasses and spice. It was such a delicious smell that caused her stomach to rumble.
But there couldn't be any home around that allowed the smell to travel so close. Not a home, no bakery, no traveller— Or she thought it couldn't have been a traveller as she didn't hear the noise of their transportation, nor their footsteps approaching.
No matter how confused she was, she recalled one thing her parents always told her. "Don't let anyone smell that scent of yours. No baths, no cleaning anywhere on yourself. Nothing. This is for your own good."
If this smell was coming from Ginger and wasn't before, wouldn't her's follow? She was getting clean! All of that dirt, sweat, and dust was blocking anything other than the stench of the hard work of a peasant and the strong sandalwood oil her father had ordered she dab on whenever just the slightest trace of sugary sweetness could be smelt from her.
Sugar shot up, stepping forwards and away Ginger. Her arms covered her chest in insecurity, turning to face the woman and putting a little more distance between them.
"What's wrong?" Ginger questioned, moving towards her slightly.
"I can do my own hair from here," Sugar stated, panicking more as Ginger fell into more confusion.
The orange-haired woman stopped and covered her nose, furrowing her brows. "Ah, is it because of the aroma?" She asked, "Please don't worry about it. I'm not a tuck shop. Just some strong perfume I bought on my travels. You know how many people love anything that has to do with nobility. It's only natural to have strong sweet perfumes, right?"
"N-Not that!" Sugar sputtered, backing upwards more.
A sharp rock pierced her foot as she stepped back once more, causing her to release a sharp hiss of pain, falling backwards to grab the injured spot. Her mind couldn't understand that the move was dumb as her face was covered in water. If she had continued backwards just a few steps, she would've felt the bottom of the water sink lower and that her inexperience wouldn't help her stay above water any longer.
Her body was in the deep, with only her feet in the shallow part. There was no use kicking her feet to get back. If she moved her feet, she would be fully out of the shallow part and wouldn't be able to move any better, leading to her to drown even faster.
'How did they do it?' She panicked as she raked her mind on how to swim.
Despite never being able to go into the water, she would stay on the bank to watch her siblings and their friends have fun paddling and swimming through the river. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do it. She had never even seen what they do underwater to float! It was only ever breaststrokes and their heads bobbing about.
She was grabbed by who she assumed was Ginger and dragged back into the shallow part. Her arms wrapped around the cider toned flesh of her saviour, coughing over her shoulder as the air embraced her fully wet face. Ginger squeezed her in comfort, pulling away to check on her through the tight grip of her holding on for dear life.
"It looks like you've washed off fine through that," She half-heartedly joked, her voice trialling off as she furrowed her brows and got closer.
With her nose just inches away from the crook of Sugar's neck, her eyes widened. She thought the scent of sweet spices and ginger was intoxicating on its own, but her's was different. The soft, sweetie aroma that danced into her nose was different than her pungent rustic one that she was so used to smelling.
She could only describe it as warm, luring her into sleep with an overload of sugar. Such a smell she had noticed was from sugar cookies. She had never tried to eat one, but bakeries would set them out on display allowing anyone to be attracted to their shops.
She let Sugar go, walking away with her nose covered. Unlike her aroma, Sugar's was strong as it lasted a few feet away. That only made things worse.
Sugar's eyes widened as she realized she could smell sugar cookies. "Please," She begged the woman who had her back turned, "Don't tell anyone!"
"Missy, do you know how much trouble you could get into?" Ginger questioned her, "You're a sweetmeat. Not even that, you're on the tier of Ambrosia!"
Ginger turned to her with a bewildered look, "You wanted to get cleaned up and go into a public parade as an Ambrosia?! Sweetie, are you serious?! You'd be snatched up the minute someone understands that you... You are a high-status sweetmeat!"
"To be fair," Murmured the girl, "I had forgotten."
Ginger huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Even if you were a lower one, you can't just forget... Why are you even out of a Tuck Shop?"
Sugar puffed her cheeks out and sank into the water. She looked down dejected at the scolding she was getting, "Am I done washing yet?"
With a sigh, Ginger nodded, "Yes, I suppose you are. Well... I guess it can't be helped if you have something impossible to get rid of. I just have to smother that scent of yours in some way and get you dolled up in time for the parade at the end of this week."
"So... You won't tell anyone?" The sweetmeat slowly questioned.
"I can't rat out someone like me, can I?" Ginger hummed out and made her way out of the river, "You probably don't know what it's like to be a sweetmeat in a tuck shop, but I've experienced it firsthand. It's not all sunshine and rainbows."
Sugar hopped after her like a little duckling, hopeful eyes set on the bare back of the vagabond woman. The taller woman was the first one out, uncaring who saw her bare body. Unlike her, Sugar wrapped her arms around her chest and bent forwards, hobbling along the ground to her pile of clothes.
"Making you a gown isn't gonna be easy. It'd take all-nighters and no breaks to get it all finished quickly. So do ya have an extra space to spare until the week's done with?" Ginger asked, pulling up her tattered trousers.
They'd need to make the bottom layers—the petticoats, the bodice, any extra designs on the gown. It may not seem like much but a full gown took so much effort to complete. They'd have to make the best one they could for her to stand a chance if there were to be noblewomen in the parade.
As she struggled to put on her thin-strapped shirt, she continued speaking, "We need to find fabric to make the gown out of, but before that, we need to find a way to dull that sugar cookie scent. I've heard that strong oils, colognes, and mists are great to conceal it. However, I don't think it works on overpowering scents. I do have a bottle of rosemary oil that always works on me, so I'll try that first."
The bottle wasn't very large. It was the size of her palm with dirty green glass. Once the sun shone through, the oil inside gave the glass it sloshed against a yellow tint.
Sugar crept closer as best as she could with her injured foot, enticed by the bottle. "That looks pretty in the light!" She exclaimed.
"That's glass for ya," Ginger waved her awe off and opened the bottle.
They could faintly smell the herbaceous aroma of the oil. Yet, it wasn't very strong.
"Let's go for it," Ginger murmured and rose it above Sugar's head.
Before the younger lady could react, Ginger was already pouring out the contents onto her head and shoulders. The sensation of the oily substance running down her neck and being absorbed by her clothing caused her nose to scrunch up, which wasn't helped by the overwhelming rosemary smell.
After a bit of rubbing the oil into her now clean flesh, they were done. Only expected, some of the sweetness still lingered in the herbal essence. One had to pay attention to smell it.
"It should be enough to get you to your home!" Ginger exclaimed and shoved the empty bottle back into her bindle.
She looked Sugar up and down before clearing her throat, "Do you need help walking? You injured your foot, right?"
The girl flushed and gave a small nod. From the blood that speckled through her thin stockings before she put her shoes on, she could tell that what happened was more than just a petty stinging from something irritating her skin. That rock had cut her, it wasn't deep, but it caused her great discomfort. She had her injured foot tilted to the side so she didn't have to feel more pain.
Ginger set an arm under hers and let Sugar lean against her. Rosemary burned both their nostrils yet they had to endure that distracting sensation. At least until they reached the tiny home of Sugar.
"Now," Ginger started as she patted Sugar's hand that was hanging onto her other shoulder, "Tell me the way."
ns 15.158.61.5da2
