It wasn't like she was spying. Once Idris had bought her basket, Adri needed to collect more flowers. It was barely noon, after all, that was near half a day of sales still, if she was quick enough. And it just so happened that her nearest "garden" was in the same direction her most recent customer had been heading.
So she was really only half a block behind him when the whole sorry affair unfolded in front of her.
Oh dear.
She almost wished she hadn't been able to take that sip of his excitement; it was enough that her stomach twisted in sympathy and second-hand embarrassment as the women started laughing. The discomfort was quickly accompanied by a flash of anger at the sheer spite she could see radiating from the woman in the lead--Marigold, she had to assume.
Common. Common flowers, common man. And oh, she could just see how much fun the damned woman was having with it, enjoying the way she could flaunt her status over this poor lovesick apprentice.
The group swept passed Idris, heading in her direction, and she made a split-second decision. Rather than ducking out of the way to defer to their right of passage, she held her ground and kept walking, eyes downcast to make it seem as though she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking.
She swerved at just the last moment, checking her shoulder sharply into Marigold's rather than smacking into her full-on. The dainty lady squealed indignantly and whirled on her.
"Watch your step, you ungainly clod!"
Uh-huh. Not even a hint of the gentility she'd started with when speaking with Idris. Because Adrianna was just a passing waif, not someone who Marigold's manipulations could offer any amusement. How long had she been stringing the poor thing along, waiting for some sort of opportunity?
Maybe it was an unfair judgement on Adri's part, but she was angry, and just being able to feel the anger felt so damned good. For a brief moment, in Marigold, she saw every snotty rich lass who had turned her nose up at the shoeless orphan huddled in a doorway with one hand out begging for coin, for the barest scrap of kindness.
"Apologies, m'lady," she mumbled, tucking the satin coin purse that her sticky fingers had slipped from Marigold's belt into the folds of her own modest skirt.
Marigold huffed, then turned and carried on her way, the catty laughter of her entourage once more floating back through the air.
Adrianna sighed, finally lifting her head to glare at the woman's back before she chanced a look in Idris' direction. She approached cautiously, like he was a wounded bird who might startle away from her.
"...I can give you back the silver," she offered quietly once she was in earshot. It was rather poor effort at comfort, but it was all she could really do.