As evening drew near and the trading centres grew busier, Yara's gaze settled on the shop owner's storefront. The faint smell of sweat rose from her dress, and her temple hairs clung messily to her skin. She rubbed her nose, smoothed her hair back, and tied a scarf over it.
She wandered through the centre, glancing at several stalls. Ahead, an inn poster caught her eye. A smile flickered across her lips. She walked toward it at a steady pace, checked in at the reception, and paid for a room.
After taking a purifying, soothing bath, she changed into a dress she had bought earlier before entering the inn. When night finally settled, she returned to sit near the shop. In almost a blink, Phinehas arrived, stepping down from the carriage.
Their eyes met, and they exchanged warm smiles. After a moment, Yara rose and walked toward him as he came to meet her halfway. He looked neatly groomed and immediately handed her the stamps.
"I was worried I wouldn't find you here," he said with a slight bow, offering her the notebooks as well.
"I thought you might have gone to Laoni," she teased with a smirk, and he guided her toward the carriage.
Inside were over five hundred pieces of fabric. Yara glanced at Phinehas and nudged his elbow lightly with hers.
"Let me find the shop owner before we begin offloading," she said, stepping aside. Phinehas gave her a nod toward the shop entrance and closed the carriage's back door.
When Yara entered the shop, the receptionist recognized her instantly and bowed, leading her to the owner's office.
The owner stood from his desk and gestured for her to sit.
"I had begun to worry you might have forgotten about me," he said, fingers interlaced on the table, his gaze fixed on her.
Yara took out the notebook from her bag and showed him the quantities of fabric ready to be sold. He scanned the page, studied the numbers, and broke into a wide smile.
"I trust you've brought me only the best," he said as he opened his drawer and produced cash along with an agreement authorizing her to withdraw the larger portion from the bank since the sum was too big to handle in cash.
Yara stood and shook his hand. He led her to the back of the shop where his workers assisted Phinehas in bringing the carriage in for offloading.
Everything went on without trouble, and Phinehas later rested in a room next to hers.
That same night, Zayun caught wind of gossip about Yara's posters from the school wardens and classmates. He kept the information to himself and quietly retreated to his bedside.
At dawn the next morning, Zera rose earlier than usual and left for the monastery. Upon arrival, she urgently requested an audience with the priest.
Yakim, the priest, was taking his morning tea in his inner room. He leafed through a few books, sighing now and then as he drifted into memories of the day he left for the monastery when Hosea had just been born.
He stood from his chair, walked to the window, and opened it. A knock interrupted him.
"Who is it?" he called, pausing.
"Madam Zera is here to see you," a young man answered.
"I will be there shortly." Yakim frowned slightly and lifted his chin.
After some time, he stepped out to meet her. They exchanged smiles and handshakes. Yakim guided her to a more private corner of the reception, and once they were seated, he welcomed her again.
"What brings you here?" he asked, his voice warm.
"I'm sure you've already heard how Yara misbehaved. We had no choice but to expel her from the family house," Zera said, clearing her throat and lowering her gaze to the table.
After a brief silence, Yakim leaned back.
"What exactly did she do?" he asked, fingers interlaced.
"She was working with smugglers and involving herself with married men. I thought pushing her out would force her to change," Zera said, running her tongue along her teeth and lifting her shoulders while her foot tapped lightly.
Yakim nodded slowly and met her eyes.
"That child will bring a sword upon your entire family if you do not take the right steps."
A heavy silence followed.
"I'm trying to do what is best for her," Zera said, clutching her purse tightly. Yakim dismissed her shortly after.
As she walked out, a memory surfaced Yara as a little girl, playing beside Dira.
The child wore a white floral dress with pearls, her hair neatly pressed. Even as a baby, she looked strikingly beautiful. Her clothes always matched Dira's, they dressed in the same colors. That morning, Zera had come to deliver Dira's tea.
After a brief exchange, Dira smirked.
"This child will surpass you. You've never been able to hold onto anything good," she said before lifting baby Yara and taking her to the dining table filled with lavish dishes, leaving Zera behind.
Snapping out of the memory, Zera jeered softly and pursed her lips.
"You never liked me mother, your blood is not on my hands," she murmured as she briskly walked away. While she drove back to the shop, Asha's name kept surfacing in her mind and a frown returned to her face every few minutes.