The small, worn wooden table in the corner of the bustling marketplace felt surprisingly private amidst the chaos. Delia carefully placed a small leather pouch, heavy with the promised coins, onto the table. " Here's the remaining payment I promised you, Owen." She said. The dull thud of the pouch landing was almost swallowed by the surrounding sounds of vendors hawking their wares and the chatter of the crowd.
Across from her, Owen, his face smudged with crumbs and sugar, was deeply engrossed in devouring a stack of pastries. His small hands clutched a half-eaten tea cake, and his cheeks bulged with the next bite he was determined to take. He ate hurriedly, as if afraid the treats would vanish before he could finish them all.
"Don't hunch down your food like that, you will choke," Delia said gently, a hint of amusement mixed with her concern. She watched him with a fond expression, her own meal untouched beside her.
