Anger born of worry

This time Artus arrived early, and the bookshop was still open. Philippa was in the middle of restocking the shelves, carrying a pile of books that went up to her nose. She acknowledged him with a nod as he sat down to wait.

Rita hadn't seen him yet, still busy with a handful of customers crowded in front of her.

"Miss, were you able to find the book I was talking about? The one with the blue cover and was about a knight?"

"Was it this one?" Rita held out a blue book with an etching of a knight on the front.

The customer squinted at it. "No, I don't think so. The knight was more...knight-like! You had it last month out in the front, surely you remember it?"

"No, I'm sorry, I'll keep looking."

Could it really be that nobody who patronized the bookstore recognized Marquis Beaudennes' daughter? How could they ask Lady Marguerite such inane questions?

The customer turned away in a huff, which rotated in the next customer, a woman who seemingly only needed to be pointed down the aisle of her desire. The customer after that was a man whose mustache already quivered in pique, a limp and stained book pinched in his hand.

Rita was all smiles as if blind to the man's state, though maybe she was. "How can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, you can help me," he said, so snappishly that Philippa veered her head from the other end of the store. "You sold me a defective book. I paid full price for this, naively assuming that you would have told me if there was any damage."

"Oh sir, I certainly would have, let me—"

"Look here, look at it! Do you see this? Look at it!" He waved the open book in her face.

Out of the corner of Artus's eye, Philippa moved to draw her sword, but Rita put out a hand to stop her. The man, clearly misinterpreting the gesture to mean he should back away, grew even more incensed. "Is this how you treat paying customers? Do you think you're the only bookshop around?"

"If there was damage like that, I wouldn't have—"

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"If I knew there was damage like that, of course you wouldn't have paid full price," said Rita. "I'll order you a new replacement copy as soon as I can..."

Artus couldn't believe what he was hearing. The next thing he knew, he had stepped between her and the customer. "It rained the other day," he said evenly. "Are you sure it was not damaged then?"

"What? Stay out of this!"

"If this young woman truly deceived you, then I intend to help you." Artus's tone turned almost placating. "I am the aide of Prince Frederic Reuchateau, and if I witness deceit in his kingdom, I will take all measures to mete out justice."

"Then good! Tell this woman to—"

"I will ask her past customers about whether she is an honest vendor. And I will ask your past vendors about whether you are an honest customer. Because while it's clear you bought a book here, there have been reports of dishonest folk swapping in damaged goods and trying to ruin the reputation of good stores. You see why I must investigate this thoroughly."

The man's face twisted with impatience. "You're making a big fuss, all I want is the money for the book that I'm owed—"

"Yes, Artus," Rita added, "there's no need to make a big deal—"

No. Artus hated the lazy, the stupid, the greedy, the banally evil, let alone all in one. And although this was Rita's store, and she should run it as she liked no matter how poorly, a fire raged in him that he could not quell. He flicked the gold pin on his chest, the small but present proof of his royal affiliation. "There's clearly a big problem, if you, sir, are willing to make such a scene in public, in front of the prince's aide. What is your name? I will bring you before the crown. If she is a thief, her hand will be forfeit. If you are a liar, it will be your tongue. So tell me your name, or do you finally remember that it rained the other day, and you foolishly forgot to shelter your books from the damp?"

Perhaps it was the pin, perhaps it was the threat made concrete, or perhaps it was something in Artus's expression that punctured the thick fog of the man's brain, because the man finally seemed to grasp the imminent doom spelled by Artus's promises. "D-don't you, I—I have been wronged!" the man yelled with only the tiniest squeak in his voice, and he hurried out the door before Artus could get another look at his face.

The remainder of the customers cleared quickly after that, some after asking a slightly sheepish question, others just edging out awkwardly. Most threw him an unsettled sideways glance. Artus was still fuming when Rita locked the storefront.

Rita toyed with her thumbs. "Um, thank you for earlier."

"What happened to the Villainess of Reuchateau?" Artus burst. "How can you let them talk to you like that? You are... you are the marquis's daughter!"

She shrugged, so apologetically that Artus felt simultaneously ashamed and angrier. "Habit?"

"What?"

"Nothing. I just mean, isn't the customer king?"

"No," Artus said impatiently, "the king is king. You are a lady. And these customers are beggars in need of a service you provide. I knew this would happen, ever since the first day I walked into your store. Despite our many lessons you still insist on speaking strangely, and you still wear plain clothes, and you give everyone whatever they want."

Rita drew herself up. "I didn't open a bookstore so that I could bully people around while still having to act like a noble. And I did wear fancier outfits in the beginning, but people didn't come to the store. It's important to be kind and approachable."

"But did you open the store so that people could bully you? Being approachable is one thing, but they'll remember your kindness as weakness."

"You're basing it all off tonight. There's plenty of people that just remember kindness as kindness. If anything really gets out of hand, I have Philippa. Artus, why don't I bring you something sweet? A customer brought a small cake in earlier. It might make you feel better."

"I'm not a child," Artus began irritably. "Wait, are you eating things customers bring you? You shouldn't accept food from strangers."

"I'm not a child either!" Rita called, already fetching this cake. Artus threw a look at Philippa.

Philippa seemingly understood and replied, "I've been making sure the food is safe."

"That's good, at least."

"And you should just do what you're here to do. M'lady did not ask for your advice on how to manage her shop."

"Are you okay with this? With...this?" He gestured to all of it.

Philippa shrugged. "As long as I do my job, she'll be safe. As an aide, I'm sure you also know that you're not in charge of your master's decisions, only their consequences."