Ashara had been in Lumendell for over a month and still hadn't seen half of it.
The canal waterfront was proof. She came out of a side street between two tailor shops and just stopped, because there was a whole district sitting right there that she didn't know existed. There were canals cutting through the white stone in wide, lazy curves, gondolas painted in deep reds and blues, and boatmen hollering at pedestrians in a singsong dialect she couldn't follow. Vendors had set up right at the water's edge, their stalls practically hanging over the canal.
[A month. I've been here a month and I missed THIS?]
She wandered for a while. There was a woman selling something fried on a stick who wouldn't tell her what it was, but it was good, so Ashara bought two. She ate the second one leaning on a railing, watching a gondola glide under the bridge below her.
