By the time the last bowl was scrubbed and the hearth fire had died down to a steady orange glow, the group was still gathered around the table. The girls had submitted their working clothes, sturdy tunics, and headscarves to keep the soot out of their hair.
"Now, the snacks," Dory said, leaning forward. "Liam, you will be the face of the business. Every morning at dawn, you take the first fresh batch to the girls' family stalls. You tell the elders exactly what we discussed: 'The Vanguard's Choice.' It is a snack for energy, for work, and for the journey ahead."
"What if they don't want to sell it?" Liam asked, looking nervous.
"They will," Maya cut in, crossing her arms. "I told my mother that if she sells ten plates, she gets to keep a copper for herself. She is already clearing a spot on the front counter."
