Ten minutes passed. Then more.
Stalls blurred into one another: spices, cloth, trinkets, the same shouting voices, the same turn taken twice. Salviana slowed, then stopped entirely.
"Alaric."
He turned.
She lifted a brow beneath her shawl. "You said you knew the place."
"I do."
"We've been walking for over ten minutes."
He opened his mouth.
"And," she added sweetly, pointing over his shoulder, "I've seen that same stall more than twice now."
Behind them, Sebastian coughed—very badly—clearly choking back laughter. Simon stared very intently at the ground. Heappal's lips twitched despite himself.
Alaric followed her pointing finger, recognized the stall instantly… and stiffened.
Slowly, he turned and glared at the knights.
They straightened at once, expressions painfully innocent.
"You," Alaric said quietly, "have been enjoying this."
Sebastian grinned. "Just admiring the… scenery, my lord."
