The Weaver's Circle was, in fact, not a circle. It was a spot near the thickest grove of salvia where a lot of the weavers and other crafters gather while doing their work. Nobody knew how the Circle started. Water sprites were social creatures, always craving interactions with people, so it's understandable why they would choose a random spot and go there with a guarantee of talking to someone. After all, crafting was a lonely job if done alone.

Nelnifa picked her way towards the Circle, the last of the shanties peeling away from her. The sunset-colored leaves of the salvia waved at her from above, their thin fronds ranging from orange to a deep mauve and purple rustling with the wind. Underneath their shade, hundreds of crafters sat in makeshift stools of either chipped chunks of rock, wooden benches made from rough planks bound together with twine, or chopped salvia trunks with circumferences wide enough to support a butt.

The sound of leaves being dragged against the sand was the most prevalent noise, followed by the small crinkles of leaves being twisted and cut along with the various chimes and clinks of rocks, shells, and hardened clametis tubes. Footsteps slogging through the sun-baked sand was all around Nelnifa as water sprites moved in and out of her periphery. She clung to the strap of the satchel slung across her torso, her own feet joining the chorus of thousands of others, steering away from anyone whom she might need to lock eyes with.

She pursed her lips, the sweat coating her upper lip already full of particles of sand stuck to it. With a frown, she spat sand out of her mouth. It was probably the only thing she hated about the sand.

The weavers gathered in groups ranging from three people to a whole community of twenty. Nelnifa wrinkled her nose and stopped after she passed the outer rim. Standing on her tiptoes, she scanned the crowd for a familiar face. A hand stuck in the air and waved, catching Nelnifa's expression. There they were.

She began walking briskly, the wind catching her hair in bursts. The head belonging to the hand appeared after she cleared a particular circle composed of eight people. Kethana's face beamed at Nelnifa, her pearly white teeth glinting against the sun. Her dark skin looked as soft as ever.

"Hey, you," Kethana said as Nelnifa dropped in a spot the girls in her friend's group cleared for her by scooting against the sand. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry," Nelnifa tucked her hair behind her pointy ear and ducked her head at her friend. "The caretaker was late due to a caravan blocking the road. I had to wait for her because no one's going to be with my brothers. You know how they get when they're left alone."

Kethana bobbed her head, her cropped pink hair staying put behind her head. When had she trimmed it? The last time Nelnifa was here, the girl had her hair down to the back of her neck. Now, it stayed sheared behind the ears. If there was anyone who could rock that kind of hairstyle, it was Ketha.

Then, a shoulder bumped against hers. "Aww, you know I don't mind, Nel," Ketha said with a wide grin. Well, if Nelnifa had as pearly and white teeth as Ketha, she wouldn't stop smiling too. "Family comes first."

Nelnifa hummed at the sentiment, not thinking too much about it. She lost count of how many times she had heard of the phrase spoken to her or somewhere near her since the beginning of her memory. It must have been a lot.

With a grunt, she swiped at the nearest bunch of clipped salvia fronds and made the starting knot. "Well, any news from the Circle?" She took a sharpened blade from her satchel and smoothed the leaf free from small thorns. They weren't enough to make her bleed but their scratchy pricks sure feel uncomfortable when she was already weaving. "You three have been here longer than me."

True enough, there were two more girls weaving with Ketha. They weren't anyone whom Nelnifa was familiar with but she wouldn't mind new company so long as Ketha or someone she knew longer than a year was with her.

"Oh, yeah," Ketha held the knot she was tying to slap a palm against her forehead. "I forgot you don't like new company."

Nelnifa opened her mouth to correct that before the others got weirded out but Ketha beat her to it. The pink-haired sprite waved her hand towards a girl with deep blue braids running down her shoulders. "This is Alsen," she said before jerking her chin towards a girl with red gold hair with straight bangs sitting beside Nelnifa. "And that's Yensar."

Yensar raised her head and met Nelnifa's eyes with her sky blue pair. "What's up?"

Nelnifa smiled as kindly as she could, praying to the gods it wasn't similar to a grimace. Judging from Yensar's flat expression and how she returned to locking the fronds into place with one final insert, it probably was. She withdrew her eyes too, coming to rest on the pile of finished baskets behind Ketha.

Salvia baskets always introduced a variety of colors due to the nature of their leaves and it was Desara's pride to say that no other basket was similar. Each one was unique, first from the way each weaver sealed or tucked the leaves to lock them into place, second from the leaves used affecting the final size of the basket, and finally, to the patterns of colors the leaves made. Some, more talented weavers prefer to add calculated patterns to their weavings but it usually takes more time and creativity. Nelnifa had pushed for them to sell theirs for a higher price compared to the ones made with not an afterthought and, so far, they agreed.

"Oh, come on, it's too quiet!" Ketha, the ever-prattling sprite slapped her thigh with the beginnings of a basket she was working on. "What's wrong with you two?" she asked Alsen and Yensar who had begun to focus on their individual baskets. Yensar was even halfway through her next one. Nelnifa could always appreciate a fast worker.

Yensar stole another glance at Nelnifa. "You didn't tell us you're friends with the Potentate's daughter," she stuttered. "I could have worn something nicer when you invited me."

Alsen didn't speak but, judging from how red her ears had become, she felt the same. Nelnifa blinked. Both were dressed the same as Ketha, just yards of cloth tied around their chests, hanging by their midriffs. The same type of cloth was tied around their waists and covered their legs. It was typical fashion from water sprites in Orayta considering how hot it could get. Even Nelnifa's sleeveless dress felt stuffy.

If she didn't feel exposed whenever she wore those types of clothes, she would have resorted to them even back in Zoriago.

"It's okay," Nelnifa blurted before Ketha could beat her to it. She shot the pink-haired sprite a thankful glance. It wasn't her place to explain everything going on with Nelnifa. "I'm not here on official business. I'm just hanging out with f..."

Ketha snickered. "Oh, come on. Say it."

Nelnifa winced for real this time. "Friends."

Alsen and Yensar blinked. As much as Nelnifa didn't mean anything by what she said—her father said she almost always overcomplicated things by giving them a "proper" definition—she didn't have a choice if she wanted to make them comfortable around her. She cleared her throat and extended a hand towards them. "I'm Nelnifa," she said. "Ketha's been my friend since we're children. And don't worry about your clothes. I think they look really nice on you."

Alsen's mouth curled into a circle. Her blue eyes were wide. "I never dreamed of a day a royal would appear in front of me," she pushed one braid behind her shoulder. "Yet here we are."

"Besides," Nelnifa prompted. Shock registered in her system now that she's somehow the one driving the conversation with people she met five minutes ago. "Being a royal is just like any other job, like um, weavers or the fisherfolk."

As if on cue, Alsen and Yensar looked behind them towards the shore where boats ranging from the size of a dagrine to the size of a house were anchored. Some were out in the sea, their silhouettes mere dots in the horizon.

"It doesn't mean I'm above you or you are below me," Nelnifa said. "The Potentate and his family might be out for everyone to see, we may have bigger and quite more stressful jobs, but at the end of the day, it's the water sprites, our people, that we are serving."

Nelnifa fished the next leaf from the pile when her current one was already at its limit. "If anything, you guys are above me," she finished.

Alsen and Yensar exchanged glances and bobbed their heads.

Ketha clapped Nelnifa on the back. "Hey, what new thing have you eaten this morning?" she said. "That was excellent!"

Nelnifa blinked. Oh, yeah. She just had a conversation with not one but two strangers and didn't feel like throwing up. "I mean," she coughed into her fist to hide her smile. "I guess I'm improving."

Ketha gave her a wider and brighter smile. "Yeah, I'm proud of you!" she said. WIthout explaining to the other two what they were talking about, Ketha went back to her half-finished basket and started threading the new leaf in knots and maneuvers to build up the next row of colors. "As for the news in the Circle, I don't think there's a new scoop you could bring back to Zoriago. Not unless you consider Pema and Cirten getting bonded next week worthy of celebration."

Nelnifa schooled her face to at least appear that she didn't know who they were and not that she didn't care for them the least bit. "Oh, they are?" she said. "How nice. Shall I send a congratulatory gift?"

Ketha looked at her like she had just said she was pooping seashells. "Why would you? The palace didn't send anything to Gerce and Weran when they got bonded last week. If anything, the people would charge you with favoritism."

Nelnifa winced. "Oh, that's...I didn't think of that," she said, tucking the last knot into her basket. She passed it to Yensar who slotted the rather crude basket next to her pile of finished ones. Perhaps Nelnifa should spend more time in the Weaving Circle to be an expert in basket-weaving. As such, she was merely past the beginner level and somewhere in the average—one that could sell but not one which would be sought after by clients from other territories.

"And the quota?" Nelnifa jerked her chin at Alsen's pile growing beside her. "Are you still able to keep up with it? Do we need to petition to raise or lower it?"

Alsen looked up from her work and gave Nelnifa a passive shrug. "You'd have to ask Morka for the exact numbers," she said. "But if you want my opinion, I'm still getting ahead of my individual quota and even going over on some days. I don't know about these two."

"I'm already doing my quota for the next two days," Yensar replied, not bothering to pause her work. That's what an expert looked like, certainly. "I think Morka could increase my individual quota so as to not pressure any of these slackers."

Yensar shot Ketha with a pointed look. The pink-haired sprite laughed, scratching the back of her neck. "I keep getting distracted," Ketha said. "These people all have amazing life stories. You should hear the ladies in row three."

Alsen rolled her eyes. "You're just bored from weaving all day," she said. It was a teasing statement. "Better meet your quota today or Morka'll have your head. You can't keep using overachievers to save your ass."

"So that's a no on even bringing up the quota adjustment for the weavers," Nelnifa nodded, filing that knowledge into the back of her head. She needed to remember it so she would have something to write as soon as she got home. "What other issues have you been experiencing in this place? Do you want a shack? Something?"

Ketha rolled her shoulders as she brought her work closer to her face. Her tongue peeked in between her lips—something she was known to do when she was focused on something. Nelnifa had pointed it out once and Ketha had denied it. Since then, Nelnifa decided it was better to never mention it at all.

"Getting more fronds cut before the day starts would be helpful," Yensar said, finishing another basket over the short while they were talking. How many had she finished since Nelnifa got here? "It would save most of us more time if the only thing we do for a day was to weave."

Nelnifa tapped her chin. "So...you'd want a person tasked with cutting the leaves?" She inclined her head to one side. "Why not cut it all in one day and spend the rest of the week weaving?"

"Salvia leaves are woven best when they were freshly cut from the tree," Alsen answered, this time, driving two of her braids behind her shoulders. They must have slipped past her shoulders when she leaned forward to get another leaf from the pile. "If they're over a week old, they turn crinkly and brittle. They wouldn't last long."

Nelnifa nodded. "Okay, I'll bring up the problem in my next report," she said. "Any more concerns?"

"See? You're good at this," Ketha nudged Nelnifa once more. Her smile was bright as ever. "And here you used to think you're not cut out for the job."

Nelnifa snorted. "What does it matter?" she said. "In a few years, the Corledia family might not even be on the palacial seat. Lanteglos could replace us at any moment and we wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Desara would be lucky if the next Potentate was good at their job."

"Hey, save the drama for later," Ketha chided. Being friends with Nelnifa meant putting up with her sentiments too. It's a miracle Ketha had stuck by Nelnifa all these years. "What matters is that you and your family are here now. You seem to be enjoying the job too. I'm sure Lanteglos will see that."

Ketha chucked the basket she finished into the pile next to her. Yensar was now in her next basket despite just starting a few minutes ago. "Besides, aren't you a third generation heir?" she asked, referring to Nelnifa's lineage. "That's why everyone knows who you guys are now."

"Yeah, that's the point," Nelnifa said. "I may be the weak link in this dynasty and I might bring an end to it. Especially if I continue being...this."

SIlence permeated around the circle. Nelnifa took another leaf and wove it through the topmost layer she had made in order to lock the knots in place and to form the basket's rim. "What was Lanteglos even doing in Desara's business?" she said, the words flowing out of her mouth before she could think twice about it. "Desara should be able to decide for itself. We are completely capable of it. Does it make sense for the Imperial City to dangle their power over our heads? Why can't they control the other territories? It's just messed up."

"Nel..." Ketha's tone turned cautious. Her eyes scanned their surroundings. "I didn't know you're feeling this way."

Nelnifa blew a breath, her shoulders slumping. "Think nothing of it," she said. "It's not like something will change even if I say it. Desara's freedom exists only in my dreams. It's not something we will get in this lifetime or the next."

The other sprites were silent for a long while after that. Then, Ketha suggested another topic and soon, they were talking about the different ways to skin and gut the elkote and debating what kind of smoking technique would yield the most delicious dish. Nelnifa rode with the conversation, not bothering to input much considering Ketha was the one in charge of it like always. For a second, Nelnifa wondered what it was like to be Ketha. Always smiling and has the ability to make others like her instantly. Her energy never seemed to run out. If she was the Potentate's daughter, she might be able to convince the High Queen and the Seelie Court that the Corledia family deserved to serve for a third generation.

Nelnifa shook her head and finished her last basket for today. She made a good twenty in the small time she spent here. "Hey," she patted Ketha's shoulders as she straightened up. "I still need to check on Morka and the fisherfolk. I'll catch up with you next time."

Ketha squeezed Nelnifa's hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, go," she said. "We didn't mean to hold you up."

"No, it was actually nice," Nelnifa flashed another smile at Alsen and Yensar. "I had fun."

Then, she strode away from the Weaver's Circle and moved closer to the shore. The sound of the waves lapping the beach became louder and louder, drowning the droll of thoughts and regrets in Nelnifa's mind.

The talk with the fisherfolk went smoothly. One of them wanted state-sponsored traps while another worried about the rarity of a certain species of elkote and that it might be disappearing from the oceans. Nelnifa assured the fisher that she would propose for the Palace to request a scholar from Lanteglos to research it. The fisherman seemed satisfied with that answer. At least, Nelnifa had something to put in her report for this week.

When the sun had begun to set, turning the sky into a burst of warm colors, Nelnifa figured it was time to go back to Zoriago. Before she hailed another cart-ride home, she spotted a lone caravan passing through Orayta. They might be hoping to catch a major trade route as soon as they clear Aresving. When Nelnifa stopped them to ask for their wares, her eyes were immediately drawn to the basket of cloresh sitting inside the cart's numerous crates.

After digging enough versallis form the pockets of her dress, she walked through the cooling sand with a basket slung over her arm and a proud smile beaming in her face. As expected, her brothers didn't stop screaming their lungs out when she brought the basket of cloresh on the dinner table. Her father, dressed in simple tunic and trousers, raised an eyebrow at Nelnifa, to which she responded, "They asked."

Dinner came and went, with it the rest of the day. As soon as the third hour of the third quarter rolled around, it was already dark out and the moons shone over the forest in their various colored rays. When Nelnifa crawled to bed and drew her blanket to her chin, she took one last look outside.

Tomorrow's another day, despite how hers was always so predictable.

She turned to her side, and wrapping her blanket tighter around her body, fell promptly asleep. All according to schedule.