The merchant pulled out rolls of beautiful silk in various colors—deep crimson, forest green, midnight blue, pale gold.
Kaya ran her fingers over them appreciatively, testing the texture. "These are nice," she murmured. "How much for three yards of the blue?"
"For you, young miss? Special price—"
They haggled back and forth pleasantly, like any normal market transaction.
Sparrow stood off to the side, staring blankly at a pile of vegetables in the next stall.
She just tortured someone last night, his brain kept repeating. She broke his teeth. She made him bleed. She smiled while doing it.
And now she's buying fabric.
This is fine. Everything is fine. This is completely normal.
(It was not fine. Nothing was fine.)
Veer wandered over to a weapon stall, examining some daggers with interest. "Hey Kaya, come look at these!"
