Day four of the Solstice.
The blizzard had finally cleared enough for the city gates to open.
This was excellent news for the economy. It was terrible news for the shopkeepers of the Grand Market.
Because today, the Four Warlords of the High Council—plus one very smug Leviathan King—had decided to go holiday shopping.
The Mission was to find the perfect Secret Solstice gifts for their cubs (and Primrose).
The Problem was that none of these men had ever shopped for anything that wasn't a siege engine or a treaty.
"Gentlemen," General Rajah announced, standing at the entrance of the market. He was wearing a civilian coat that cost more than the entire street. "We have a tactical objective. Acquisition of Joy. We move in, we secure the assets, we extract. No civilian casualties."
"Understood," Lord Rurik grinned, cracking his knuckles. "I will wrestle the best gifts into submission."
