The market stirred with life, though it conducted itself in a hush—as if the day had not yet given permission for noise. Stalls were arranged with practiced care, voices kept low, coins exchanged with discretion. Even commerce, it seemed, had learned to tread lightly.
"My miss, might you fancy some fish?" a monger called, adjusting his display with hopeful hands.
I shifted the goods in my arms and shook my head, offering a polite smile before continuing on. Bread, eggs, bacon—purchased cheaply, if not generously. I walked with measured steps, careful not to draw the sun's attention, nor the eyes of those who watched simply because they could.
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" cried a newspaper boy as he hurried down the street. "Foreign airship spotted in the skies above Twin Hill Province!"
The words lingered longer than the sound of his footsteps.
"Good morning, Miss Nana. How was your night?" I asked upon entering the inn.
"Ah—good morning, Halle, dear. You're up early," she replied, tea in hand, her gaze lingering on the window before turning back to me.
"How is Miss Lakshmi?" she asked, a gentle smile touching her lips—one ear flicking absently as she spoke.
"She's already awake—and thank you, truly, for everything," I said, moving toward the kitchen.
Moments later, I stood before Lakshmi's door.
"It's time to wake up, Miss," I said, knocking lightly before easing it open.
"Oh—Halle," she murmured, reaching out languidly. "Come back to bed with me."
"No," I replied without hesitation, setting the tray aside. "We have little time. We need to plan our next move," I said, a quiet sigh escaping my lips.
I pulled the blankets away. "And we must also prepare for the end-of-year gathering. We are hosting."
"Ugh," she groaned, rising reluctantly. "I wanted to sleep a while longer."
I handed her the morning paper as I laid out breakfast. "A foreign airship?" she said, scanning the headline while changing from her nightwear. "It wouldn't be the elves, nor the orcs—"
She paused, arranging her hair into a neat bun.
"And I doubt any of the human nations would involve themselves in this… mess."
"Then perhaps the Church," I offered, pouring water to rinse away soap as she bathed. "If no one else would dare, they might."
"Hm," she murmured. "But for what purpose?"
"Speculation only," I dried her shoulders, a small smile tugging at my lips. "At this distance, that's all we have. It could even be the Synagogue."
She took her tea with a small smile. "Darjeeling."
"How are the girls?" she asked, nudging a tomato with her fork, the matter already forgotten.
"They're well. I delivered their breakfast already," I said, exhaling softly.
"Would you be willing to teach Victoria how to handle a firearm?" she asked between bites. "She mentioned unfamiliarity with… modern weapons."
"I see no issue," I replied. "She said as much herself."
A moment passed.
"Miss Heiwa may wish to return home," Lakshmi said at last.
"I understand," I replied, stacking the dishes.
"Should I inform Mr. Henrijs to prepare for departure?" I asked, hand on the door.
"Yes," she said, already reclining once more. "That seems prudent. Please do so."
As I stepped outside, the sun finally made its appearance—soft, restrained, respectful.
As though it, too, had learned when not to intrude on winter's play.