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The Crown Exchange took less time than I expected. A clerk in silver spectacles checked the Citadel mark on Jade's pay letter, walked her through opening the account with more patience than the task strictly needed, and bound a coin crystal to her signature while the rest of us waited along the wall. Jade read every line before signing, checked the balance twice once it appeared, and hesitated only a breath before pressing her thumb to the crystal that would carry her pay from now on. Alex clapped when the binding took. The clerk jumped. We were back outside within the half hour, the coin crystal on a bracelet secured beneath Jade's sleeve and Alex already steering us toward the clothing district before she'd finished reading the account booklet.

Jade stopped at the top of the exchange steps and looked down at the crystal hidden under her sleeve.

"You can still change your mind," Corian said. "We don't have to buy anything today."

She considered the market, then the account booklet in her hand. "If I go home, he'll bring the clothes to me anyway."

Alex smiled. "I knew you understood me."

"That wasn't approval."

"It was close enough."

The clothing district began two streets past the fountain, shops crowded beneath covered walkways. Jade slowed at every window without admitting she was looking. The first shop Alex chose was warm and far too full of color, and the seamstress took one look at his enthusiasm before steering us toward the everyday clothing at the back.

"What do you like?" Alex asked.

Jade looked around the shop. "Clothes that fit."

"That's a requirement. Not a preference."

"Dark colors."

"That's fear talking."

"That's experience with blood talking."

The seamstress coughed into one hand. Corian rubbed his forehead. Halver started pulling practical trousers off a rail while I drifted toward the window and pretended I had no part in any of this.

Alex treated the shop like a battlefield where color had to defeat Jade by force. A yellow dress became a burial shroud in his hands. A shirt covered in embroidered birds might be useful if we ever needed to blind an attacker.

Halver ignored both of them and built his own pile on the counter instead. Two pairs of dark trousers, several soft shirts, a charcoal jumper, a dark green jacket with enough inner pockets for knives, a heavier coat lined for winter. Every choice practical without reading like a uniform.

"You planned this," Jade accused.

"I cook for you," Halver said. "I know what you reach for when your sleeves get wet. I know which pocket you hide things in. I know you hate scratchy fabric."

That left her with her mouth slightly open and nothing to say back.

Corian sat near the register with the account booklet, since Jade had asked him to help her estimate the cost before she committed to anything. Once he had, she checked the total twice and quietly returned one pair of trousers to the pile.

"You can afford them," Corian said.

"I don't need two pairs."

"You wore the same pair three days straight when camp flooded."

"They dried eventually."

"Put them back on the counter," Alex called from somewhere inside a rack of coats.

Jade put them back, muttering something about coordinated harassment.

By the time the seamstress had gathered a full changing room's worth of options, Jade's expression had shifted into something I recognized more from training halls than clothing shops. Too many variables. No clear objective. Nothing to measure herself against except her own uncertainty, and Jade had never learned how to sit with uncertainty quietly.

The seamstress ushered her behind a curtain with an armful of shirts and trousers and left her to it. Alex trailed after, apparently convinced his commentary remained essential even through fabric.

I wandered further into the shop, past racks of things none of us needed, and found myself stopped in front of a display of winter gloves. Fur-lined leather, soft enough at the cuff that I ran my thumb across it twice before I let myself admit why.