The first was a ring toss. Obvious mana barrier.
The kind designed to nudge the rings just wide of the pegs. But it was lazy work, static and uneven. With the right pressure, the right touch of tuned magic…
Tink.
Ring one. Perfect hit.
Tink. Tink.
Three more.
The stall owner was already sweating.
"Final toss," he called, voice a little higher.
I poured in a thread of mana, just enough.
Tink.
Direct hit.
He swallowed. "Pick your prize."
Salem pointed at the necklaces hanging from the top rail, one shaped like a little silver dragon, the other like a thorned rose.
We wore them immediately.
The next booth was archery.
A small boy stood in front of us, probably no older than seven, trying and failing to pull the string back far enough to launch the arrow. His mana flickered small and untrained. Still growing.
He released. The arrow flopped forward and landed a full foot short.
The stall owner laughed.
"Better luck next time, kid."
The boy's mother knelt beside him, whispering kind encouragements.
Something in me flared.
I stepped forward.
"May I?" I asked gently.
The boy looked up at me, his mana glowing with hope. He handed over the bow with both hands.
I knocked a single arrow. Focused.
Split.
With one shot, the arrow broke in mid-flight — fracturing into five clean parts, each landing squarely in the bullseyes of the five targets.
The people around us gasped.
"Hand me all five prizes, thank you very much," I said sweetly.
We gave the boy the largest toy first — a soft elemental plush that flickered gently with magic. He squealed in delight and hugged it like it might disappear.
Salem gave the mother a respectful nod.
Then we kept going.
Game after game, we won.
Target toss. Magic dice. Even the soul-sensing "truth booth" which claimed to know your darkest desire. Salem had way too much fun with that one.
By the time we finished, we were loaded down with plushies, trinkets, mystery treats, and three different flags we didn't even recognize.
"We have too much," Salem groaned, holding two oversized bags in each hand.
"I got it," I said.
I twisted a tiny portal spell midair — a neat little shimmer that tugged gently at space itself. It blinked open like a door in the air, leading straight into the royal wing's storage room.
All our loot tumbled through, landing in a pile of glory.
I wiped imaginary sweat from my brow. "Okay. That was so much fun."
Salem bumped her shoulder against mine. "Agreed. What now?"
"Buy food for later," I said, mouth already watering. "I really want dried meats. Rōko told me it's the best snack for long journeys, a samurai classic!"
"Lead the way, General."
We walked side by side again.
We headed deeper into the food stalls, into the heart of the market where spice and smoke ruled the air.
It smelled incredible.
Roasted things. Spiced things. Things with garlic and vinegar and butter that clung to your tongue even before you tasted them. And underneath it all. Meat. Rich and peppered and cured for weeks in stone cellars.
"Right here," I said, pointing toward a cluster of mana-blurred booths.
We stopped in front of a stand run by a woman with a smile, mana bright and calloused hands that worked like a machine. A vendor who clearly did this her whole life. She handed me a slice before I could ask.
"Try," she said. "Beef cured with honey and pepper cloves. A local favorite."
I took the bite carefully.
Chewed.
Paused.
"…Oh my gods."
Salem's mana pulsed beside me, amused. "That good?"
"Salem. Try this. Immediately."
She was still chewing her own when I handed her mine. The moment she tasted it, her aura jumped.
"That's illegal," she said, licking her fingers.
We ended up trying five more — salty and dry, peppered with spice, rubbed with red honey and sun-dried fruit. I tucked several slices into a little cloth bag, still warm from the sun.
Then we moved to the cheese stall.
I could feel them lined up like little mana bombs, soft ones, sharp ones, aged so long they sang in weird, moldy languages. I leaned closer, tracing my fingers gently over their shapes, smelling each one carefully.
And then—
A hand.
Not mine.
Not Salem's.
Rough. Sharp. Uninvited.
It brushed lower than it should've. A squeeze. A flick.
I froze.
"Sorry," I said, voice even. "Sir, would you please apologize for touching me like that… and be on your way?"
The silhouette shifted. Tall, narrow mana. Noble threads woven through his aura, the kind that pulsed with entitlement, not power.
He laughed.
Mocking.
Cruel.
Then his arm twitched upward — not to apologize.
To strike.
He never got the chance.
A flash — too fast to follow — and Salem's mana slammed into my vision like a dark star collapsing.
Her aura was rage-bound. Dense and trembling.
His arm was wrenched back — tendons screaming.
Her shadow-forged limb curled tight around his wrist like a serpent, transformed into a narrow blade. It rested against the side of his neck, just enough pressure to break skin.
A line of red mana shimmered. He stopped breathing.
"Apologize," she growled, voice low and cold and ancient.
Silence.
Then. "I-I'm sorry—!"
She released him.
Then kicked.
He tumbled backward into the street with the weight of a war beast. Coins exploded from his pockets. The crowd gasped. The poor moved faster than the guards. scooping up every last coin like ravens to a feast.
I exhaled slowly.
Salem turned back to me, her hand still twitching with residual rage.
"I'm okay," I said softly, reaching for the cheese I'd been touching. "Let's try this one."
We paid and left the stall behind, slipping into a side alley where the crowds weren't so thick.
Where no guards could question us. The mana around us dimmed, thinner, quieter. Just the two of us again.
I was still blushing.
She noticed.
"Thank you," I murmured before she could speak. "For protecting me."
Her mana twitched, curious.
"I haven't had that before you," I said. "Not really. Not even in my last life. And now that… well, this is our first date. And we've kissed."
I turned slightly away, pretending to fidget with the cheese bag.
"I just think it's really attractive. That's all. And I'm not blushing. You're blushing. I can feel your heat, you know!"
There was a pause.
Then suddenly. the world tilted.
Salem shoved me gently but firmly against the stone wall behind me, one hand beside my head, her body close but not quite touching.
Her mana surged, practically wrapped around me like smoke.
No one else in sight.
"AH," she said, frustrated and giddy all at once. "I want to kiss you so badly."
My heart nearly burst out of my chest.
"But I won't," she growled, lowering her forehead against mine, breath warm. "You asked me to wait. So I'll wait. Even if it kills me."
I swallowed hard.
"U-uhm. Okay. Good. Thank you. Yep. Appreciated."
She pulled back just enough to breathe again, her aura reluctantly loosening.
"So…" she said with a groan. "What's next on the date roster before I lose my entire mind?"
I wheezed softly, trying to remember how to think.
"Uh… food for later. Still. I mean—we need snacks. For the road back. We have dried meats. Cheese. Maybe fruit…"
I started walking again, legs made of soup.
She followed close behind.
Still not touching.
But the air between us?
Sparks.