A Brother's Price

crowns.”
    “I thought you wanted a husband.” He tried not to whine. What he left unsaid was I thought you were going to swap me . Swapped families were always closer because cousins sharing both bloodlines were more like sisters than true cousins.
    “I do.” Eldest shook her head. “But this is a shining coin, Jerin, and it’s up for grabs now. If we don’t snatch it up, it’s going to be gone.”
    “What if I don’t bring two thousand crowns?”
    “Don’t underrate yourself, Jerin.” Mother Elder came up holding a wide-brimmed straw hat. She put the hat firmly on his head, then studied him, head cocked in speculation. “Remember who your grandfather was. I think we might be able to do both: buy the shop and afford a husband of good breeding.”
    “You’re giving yourself airs. Elder,” Picker said. “I could see two thousand with your family’s breeding record for boys—but three or four?”
    “Nobility, they say, pays dearly for good breeding.”
    “Mama!” Jerin blushed hotly, partly for their discussing him like a prize stallion, partly for the idea that he could command two or three times the normal amount of a brother’s price.
    “Bah!” Picker scoffed.
    “The Queens are sponsoring Jerin’s coming out.” Summer said quietly as she came up with the front of her shirt filled with stick candy. She counted the sticks out onto the battered wood counter into two uneven piles. “Thirty-six pieces.” A silver gil joined the candy on the counter.
    “The Queens?” Picker humphed, taking the gil and counting Summer her three quince change. With the ease of lifetime practice, she tore a perfect length of brown paper from a bolt, wrapped the larger pile of candy into a neat package, and tied it off with cord. “You want the rest wrapped?”
    “Nope.” Summer said, picking up the seven remaining sticks. She held them out to Jerin. “Pick two.”
    He took a black anise and a brown maple. Summer offered one each to Mother Elder and Eldest, then, shyly, one to Captain Tern.
    “You think the Queens’ goodwill is worth two thousand crowns?” Picker asked.
    “Not so much the Queens’ goodwill as the peers’ opinion of their own worth.” Mother Elder explained. “Downriver, they say if you want a noblewoman to pay for a drink of river water, you say it’s a medical tonic brewed for the Queens and charge her a gil.”
    “So.” Picker said dryly, “that’s what your sisters sell in that fancy Annaboro store of theirs? River water?”
    Mother Elder scowled at the barb, then controlled her irritation. “We’ll need a length of veiling to go with the hat. White lace, I would think.” She took the hat off of Jerin and measured a length of blue ribbon around the rim. “What a bind. If we wait for Jerin to marry, we have the money without worries. But by waiting, someone might beat us to the purchase.”
    “We’re willing to work with you,” Picker said. “Agree to meet our price and sign a contract, help us run the store until you have the full purchase amount, and we’ll hold the store off the market until your boy’s birthday. If you get your fancy price in Mayfair, then use it to buy the store. If not, you back out of the deal, paying a penalty.”
    “We’re leaving within an hour,” Jerin protested, aghast that his family future suddenly hung on the moment.
    “What penalty?” Eldest asked.
    “Ten percent,” Picker stated.
    Jerin gasped. Two hundred crowns just to back out of the deal!
    “One percent.” Mother Elder countered.
    “Five,” Picker said. “No less.”
    “One hundred crowns?” Mother Elder glanced at Eldest Whistler and Summer. “It’s your brother’s price.”
    “It’s a shining coin.” Eldest murmured to Summer.
    Summer glanced about the store, considering, then nodded. “A wonderful golden shining coin.”
    “Deal,” Eldest Whistler said, and shook hands with the old woman. “Let’s go to the Queens’ Witness and have the papers drawn up.”
    Mother Elder gave a silver gil to Summer with instructions to buy the hat. the ribbon, and the lace. Eldest added her ammo. Jerin’s cream, and coin for both. With a stern reminder for Summer to guard Jerin. they went off to make the deal permanently legal. Jerin stared after them, slightly stunned. He was not sure how many Picker sisters tended the store, but forty-four Whistlers just had their lives utterly changed. When his sisters split the family, only half would stay on the farm. He would