Letis looked back towards Lumière, his expression seeming a little frustrated as he spoke.
'Free, damn it." Letis spoke in a huff. "The cost is free for you, of all people."
"No, I surely can't- it's a few day's wages, Letis. It's too much to be given away." Lumière objected.
"If it's what my boys say, then it's what's going to happen." Mrs. Hammond smiled with a sense of self-satisfaction.
'This woman… if it was just her, maybe I would be able to deny the offer after a lengthy back-and-forth, but with these two fools, maybe it wouldn't be so easy to pay them.' Lumière lamented inwardly.
Even despite their cheerful dispositions, Lumière knew well that the Hammond family was still a part of the miserable reality that all within the lower borough faced. He was sure that their financial situation was taut, so any goodwill offered was harshly at their expense. This was why he was so hesitant to accept it, and would then persist in wanting to pay remuneration.
He looked over towards Mrs. Hammond and smiled softly.
"Then, should we settle this the old way?"
Quickly, two stools were brought over to the wooden stall in front of the shop. Lumière opposed the towering woman, his elbow flat against the surface of the stall as he raised his hand upwards. She grasped it in turn, and as the two men watched on, they began a struggle of strength for their pride.
Of course, a struggle is what Lumière desperately sought to call it in his mind. In each instance, despite his pleas to think himself a match for the giantess, his hand was slammed hard against the splintered surface of the stall.
In the end, Lumière was left with a reddened hand and a sack of potatoes he didn't pay for. He was appreciative of the gestures the Hammond family would often show him, but he couldn't help but feel protective over them. Such kindness could be well-taken advantage of in such a cruel world, and so he was left to worry.
If Lumière were to think of any woman as a motherly figure, it surely would have been Adjest Hammond. For half a year, before Lumière had been given away to the monastery to assist with their duties, he had lived alongside the two twins and Mrs. Hammond, who had been widowed by the war.
So, they all held a special place within his heart. He bid the three goodbye, promising to visit more often, lest he be tracked and caught by the two men, and be forced to visit regardless.
'It's a strange world, to think badly of myself for accepting the kindness of another.' Lumière lamented humorously as he continued down the bustling suspended street of Etten-Leur.
He later arrived at a lamplit shop at the side of the street, where steam seemed to pour out in droves, carrying the heavy scent of spices. Dozens of people gathered around the storefront stall, tentatively avoiding the commuting crowd and the few horse-drawn carriages of the lower borough by packing together tightly, enjoying and lusting for the tantalising allure of the food.
Lumière waited patiently by the side, and after a short time, the crowd had all but adjourned with sadness and unrequited desire left in their hearts. In the hours after daytime work had ended, large swaths of people would congregate at the various shops, led by the scents of spices and glazes that would stir their hungering stomachs. Most labourers of the lower borough, who only made twenty Lune a week, would be unable to afford even the cheapest dishes at any of the shops, and so the shop owners themselves subsequently often suffered from lack of customers.
Even Lumière, who made twice as much as an average labourer by being allowed to work in a show hall in the middle borough, considered potatoes a delightful delicacy, mostly because of his somewhat obligatory contributions to the church. If only industry would come sooner as had been promised, then surely every man could enjoy more than porridge, bread, and scraps of meat.
Still, today was a special day, like all days, and so Lumière approached the man behind the stall with a smile on his face.
"One pound of harsh butter, please." Lumière requested of him.
The man looked with cold, uncaring eyes towards Lumière, and before he reached to prepare the ingredient, he turned around and called out into the shop.
"Esme!" He yelled to seemingly no one. "Mr. Croft is here!"
The clattering of pots resounded out, and a small girl appeared from the shop with a wide and excited smile on her face. She didn't look towards the man who called out for her, her gaze immediately locking onto the magician behind the stall like a magnet.
"You know the deal, Mr. Croft." The man spoke with an unmoving expression.
Lumière's smile tensed up.
'Ah, I wish I could just pay normally…'
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling a performer's glove over his left hand as he let out a sigh.
Lumière then reached his other hand into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief he had procured to replace the one he lost during the show. To be losing another so soon made his heart ache.
'I'm just a dancing little monkey to them…' He sighed inwardly.
"Alright Esme, keep your eye on the handkerchief," Lumière spoke with a gentle tone of voice.
The little girl standing before him nodded adamantly, her fists curled up in front of her in excitement.
Lumière took a deep breath, and with one swift motion, he whipped the handkerchief through the air. In the darkness only illuminated by lamplight, bright flames burst forth with dazzling sparks that fell towards the ground before burning out.
A red rose appeared within his gloved fingertips, and past its grace, he could see the excitement of the young girl bloom like its petals.
'Even still, as long as I perform, I can make smiles appear, can't I?'
Despite his lack of passion, in recent days, that had been the only upside to his choice of career. He handed the rose to the young girl, who accepted it gleefully and then looked up towards the callous man. Like every instance he would visit the man's shop, after his little performance, the man's expression would brighten up. Whether it was because of the trick, or his own child's joy, Lumière could not tell.
"You said one and a half pounds?" The man asked with a calm expression.
"I said one."
"I heard one and a half." The man spoke once more, his face continuously still.
Lumière let his heart rest and simply nodded. This was the tradeoff for his child's smile. For the same price, the man would always include a little extra. However, when it came to harsh butter, not much was lost in including such a thing. Harsh butter was the remnants of churned butter, scooped from the sides of the churn after being left to sit in the hot sun. It was more sour in comparison but still had a rich and hearty taste when warmed, and so it was worth the one lune coin that he handed over to the shop owner.
He couldn't quite complain, either. The shop owner's kindness wasn't apparent on his face, but it was quite out of place for the time. After the war, it had become harder to procure certain imported goods, and with greater necessity for local foods like butter and potatoes, the prices had skyrocketed. To try and meet the costs for themselves, landowners had raised the prices on rent for buildings, and so many had become homeless, forced to go hungry and wander around- becoming Dwindlers in mass. So, the kindness of Esme's father, and Mrs. Hammond was almost too much for him to readily accept.
"Mr. Magician…" The girl named Esme spoke out suddenly, tugging at Lumière's shirt sleeve from below.
"Yes, Ms. Esme?" Lumière spoke with kind eyes as he knelt. "Is there something the matter?"
"With your magic, can you deal with anything?" Esme asked with a somewhat worried expression.
"I can do many things, although I'm not sure why you're asking such a question."
Esme furtively shot a glance towards her father, but he was busy preparing Lumière's ingredients, so there was no help coming from his way. So, she steeled her heart and spoke out towards the magician.
"There are monsters in my room at night." She whispered close to his ear.
Her eyes shook, and her small body seemed to tremble slightly as she spoke out her words. Lumière had once feared the dark as a child. He had thought the same. So, he simply looked towards the child, and after a moment of thinking, responded in turn.
"That flower I've made out of the flames for you is filled with the brightness and goodness of the world. If at any time, there are monsters, all you need to do is hold it close, and everything will turn out alright."
"Is that really true? What if the flower withers?"
"Even a withered petal is enough. If at any point, those petals crumble too much, then a doll, a dress, or even simple lamplight is enough. There's no need to worry about the dark, for the monsters that sit within it always fear such a thing. They surely fear beauty, don't they? Otherwise, they wouldn't be described as being so ugly, right?"
Lumière smiled towards the girl, and with eyes that widened excitedly as if they had received a revelation, Esme's mood seemed to immediately brighten, and she let out a laugh while thinking of Lumière's description of monsters.
Of course, Lumière was talking made-up truths. After all, he was a career liar. But as always, those lies were fine as long as they produced smiles in others. So, he held a finger to his lips, and Esme's eyes shimmered. She immediately nodded her head, as if she had been privy to the true secrets of a magician- a revelation that was the banal crime of a performer.
He then stood back up, ruffling through her hair as he received a small paper bag from the shop owner.
He nodded his head to bid farewell and waved at Esme as he stepped back into the crowd.
As he walked, Lumière looked up towards the near-night sky which seemed to pool with grey crowds and began to sorrowfully ponder.
'In all my interactions, am I a fraud? Is lying all I can do to make people smile?'