Rhosyn stopped at a vendor who displayed many silks and clothes and began bargaining. She eventually walked away with a basket filled with purples, blues, reds, and oranges piled high and neatly.
“I think I did rather well,” she stated proudly.
Riona chuckled. “I’d say you robbed them blind with your charm.” Her fingers drifted over the fine silks and cottons.
“I did not! It’s not my fault the man wanted to take me to dinner.” She winked.
That was when Eirin and Emry howled with laughter. Riona smiled and wrapped an arm around Rhosyn.
“See, boys? This is why you let the ladies’ shop.”
Emry bowed dramatically. Eirin smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“We accept,” Emry answered. “Watch and learn.”
Eirin and Emry took the list from Rhosyn and walked toward a younger woman selling baked goods. Sorcha, Riona, and Rhosyn stood far enough back to watch the exchange.
“How much do you want to bet they get talked into buying more than what we need?” Sorcha said to the others.
Riona accepted the challenge with a grin. “I’ll buy the first round tonight if they do.”
As the late afternoon wore on, the city’s music and bright chatter swelled until they could no longer resist joining in. Turning on their heels, they drifted toward the nearest row of vendors, the air rich with spice and laughter.
Sorcha slowed as they passed a stall lined with delicate wind chimes carved from bone and shell. They swayed gently in the breeze, pearls catching the light like drops of moonfire. She reached for one, her fingers brushing the smooth surface as a strange warmth bloomed in her chest.
“My mother had one like this,” she murmured. Rhosyn rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Sorcha covered it briefly with her own before letting go and moving on.
Eventually, the two rejoined the others. Their arms full, one basket brimming with ingredients for Lammas bread, the other overflowing with sweets.
Sorcha eyed the baskets and laughed. “Looks like you owe us a drink.”
Riona turned toward Emry, shaking her head. “What?” Emry said, looking entirely too guilty.
Eirin chimed in, head low. “It all looked good.”
Emry declared he could do better, so he walked with Riona to a nearby vendor. He tried to haggle over a satchel of dried figs and wound up paying more than the asking price.
“You’re banned from negotiations,” Riona said flatly, snatching the figs. “You’re a vendor’s dream.”
After securing the festival goods and packing everything for the return journey, the group settled at a harbor-side tavern for dinner. Plates of roasted fish, buttery crab, and zesty stew were shared over rounds of spiced wine and smooth ale. The air filled with music and laughter as Riona pulled Sorcha onto the dance floor, spinning her with reckless abandon. Even Rhosyn joined, her movements graceful and precise as a flicker of joy lit her features.
Emry lingered at their table, his baby-blue eyes following Riona as she danced. He tried to appear unaffected, but his fingers tightened slightly around his mug as he watched. Her laughter and confident movements drew him in.
“I’ll ask her to dance if you don’t,” Eirin said, looking from Riona back to Emry, a smile playing on his lips.
Eirin then stepped forward, offering his hand to Sorcha. As the music slowed, Eirin pulled her onto the dance floor. His movements were confident and effortless, his soft hair sweeping over his dark eyes as they swayed. “You’re good at this,” Sorcha chuckled.
“I’ve had practice,” Eirin replied with a roguish smile. “Though I’m starting to think you were born to be twirled around a dance floor.”
Sorcha laughed softly. “You’re treading dangerous waters.”
“I’ll try not to let it happen again,” he teased. The music shifted again, becoming slower and more haunting.Lantern light flickered across the room, softening the edges and turning everything golden. Sorcha’s eyes met a familiar shape in the distance. Blue eyes caught hers, and she paused as she began pushing through the crowd. But when she reached the spot, the figure was gone.
At the edge of the floor, Riona brushed a loose lock of hair from her face. She didn’t need to look to know Emry was watching her; the awareness pressed against her skin like warmth before a flame. He held out his hand. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, then took it. Together, they moved as if the rest of the world had fallen away, the air between them thick with quiet anticipation. Riona’s eyes lifted, her expression softening. “I thought you weren’t much of a dancer.”
“I make exceptions,” Emry said, his voice low. His movements were steady and deliberate, but there was reverence in the way he held her, as if he feared she might vanish if he blinked. Riona let him guide her, her usual wit softening into something quieter, more vulnerable.
