That morning, Viana and Joel woke up early, greeted by the cold air from the transition between autumn and spring. A thin mist covered the stone houses and thatched roofs.
But they could not stay in the warmth of their blankets for long. Today, they had to start gathering information about Prince Arin.
Joel tightened his belt, fastened the strings of his cloak, and slipped a small dagger with runes engraved into the folds of his wool coat. His soft brown eyes glanced at Viana with a slight smile.
"Are you sure you want to go to the market this morning, Princess?" he asked, his voice soft yet teasing. "We might get caught in something more complicated than the layers of your gown."
Viana, who was brushing her long blonde hair before hiding it under a deep green hood, rolled her eyes.
"Do not call me Princess here, Joel," she replied, though the corner of her lips lifted into a small smile.
