"Excuse me," Marron said, her voice cutting through the noise with surprising authority. She pushed forward until she was standing between the vendor and the official. "I have a question about the decree."
The official looked down at her—he was tall, middle-aged, with the kind of smug expression that came from wielding bureaucratic power. "And you are?"
"Marron Louvel. Certified Culinary Guild chef." She tapped her Guild pin deliberately. "I run a food cart myself. Or I did, before I took a leave of absence. So this decree affects me directly."
"Then you understand the importance of maintaining standards—"
"I understand that the Culinary Guild has jurisdiction over food quality and safety, not the Merchant's Guild." Marron kept her voice level, professional. "So my question is: where is the Culinary Guild's approval on this decree? Because I don't see their seal anywhere on these notices."
