Hats Off to You

“Why are we here again?” Tom asked, shifting uncomfortably as the sun beat down on midtowns bustling main street.

Victoria glared at him over her shoulder. “Because Lord Sitka needs a replacement hat, and someone,” she jabbed a finger in his direction, “spilled tea on the last one.”

“I said I was sorry!” Tom protested. “Besides, how hard can it be to find a hat? Just pick one and call it a day.”

“It has to be the right hat,” Victoria snapped, stepping up to the hat stall and scanning the rows of neatly arranged headwear. There were all kinds—sturdy straw hats, wide-brimmed hats with ribbons, even one that appeared to be made of fur.

Emily joined them, holding a skewer of candied fruit. “Why is Sitka so picky about hats anyway? It’s just a hat.”

Victoria ignored her, reaching for a simple black hat with a silver band. Before she could grab it, Tom lunged forward and snatched a different hat off the rack—a gaudy thing with a plume of bright purple feathers.

“This one’s perfect!” he declared, plopping it onto Victoria’s head.

She froze. “Take it off.”

“No way,” Tom said, grinning. “It suits you!”

Emily tilted her head, smirking. “Actually, it kind of does.”

“Tom,” Victoria growled, “I’m going to—”

“Is that for Lord Sitka?” Hazel’s voice cut in as she arrived, her arms full of herbs. She raised an eyebrow at the feathered monstrosity perched on Victoria’s head. “Bold choice.”

Victoria yanked the hat off and shoved it at Tom. “You’re impossible. Stop messing around. We need to find the real hat before—”

“Before what?” Lord Sitka’s voice rang out behind her.

The group froze. Slowly, they turned to see Sitka standing just a few feet away, his expression as sharp and unreadable as ever. His gaze flicked to the stall, then to the hat in Tom’s hands, and finally to the pile of hats Victoria had scattered across the counter.

“Explain,” Sitka said.

“She’s taking forever to pick,” Tom offered helpfully.

Victoria shot him a murderous look. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t end up with something ridiculous.” She grabbed the plain black hat with the silver band and held it out. “This one seems... respectable.”

Sitka reached for it but paused as his attention shifted to another hat—a bright red one adorned with a comically oversized buckle.

“That’s the one,” he said, pointing to it.

Victoria blinked. “What?”

Sitka gestured again. “The red one.”

“You want that?” Tom asked, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“I never joke,” Sitka replied.

Emily burst out laughing. “It looks like something a pirate would wear!”

“Or a jester,” Hazel added, smirking.

Victoria hesitated, then grabbed the red hat and handed it over. Sitka placed it on his head, adjusting it with care. The group fell silent, struggling to suppress their laughter.

“Well?” Sitka asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tom coughed, his face turning red from the effort of holding back a snort. “You look... great.”

Emily nodded furiously. “Very distinguished.”

“Perfect for a diplomatic meeting,” Hazel added, barely containing herself.

Victoria couldn’t take it anymore. She doubled over, laughing. “You look ridiculous!”

Sitka sighed, removing the hat and handing it back to the stall owner. “Fine. Pick something else.”

The stall owner, who had been silently observing the entire exchange, reached under the counter and pulled out a neatly wrapped parcel. “This is the one you ordered, sir,” he said, handing it to Sitka.

The group stared as Sitka unwrapped a simple, elegant black hat—the exact style they’d been looking for.

“Wait,” Victoria said slowly. “You already knew what you wanted?”

“Of course,” Sitka replied, placing the hat on his head. “I simply wanted to see how long it would take for you to realise.”

Tom groaned. “You mean we’ve been standing here this whole time for no reason?”

“I wouldn’t say no reason,” Sitka said, smirking slightly as he adjusted the brim of his new hat. “This was... entertaining.”

Victoria glared at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you,” Sitka said, turning to Tom, “owe me a new coat. It still smells like tea.”