Thin bars of sunlight crept through the shutters onto the kitchen table where the Fletcher family hunched over their breakfast. Thomas’s sleeve dragged through spilled tea as he leaned forward, the wrinkles in his merchant’s coat deepening. His fingers drummed a restless pattern against the wooden surface.
Sarah lifted her cup with both hands to keep it steady. She caught Thomas’s gaze, the skin around her eyes tight with strain. Yesterday’s dress hung loose at her shoulders.
Between them, Ember swayed in her chair, her auburn hair swinging forward until Sarah steadied her with a gentle hand. Ember’s eyes fluttered open, then began to sink closed again.
“Ember, love,” Sarah said softly. “Just a few bites.”
“''Kay,” Ember mumbled. She managed one spoonful before her head started to droop.
Thomas watched his daughter struggle against sleep, his hands curling into fists beneath the table. He nudged his bowl aside. “She needs to rest today,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Sarah set her cup down with a faint clatter. “Yes, I-” She reached out as Ember listed sideways. “Ember, sweetheart.”
Ember jerked upright, then blinked slowly at them. “M’sorry,” she slurred. “Trying to…”
This time when she drifted, Sarah guided her daughter’s head down to rest against her sleeve. She smoothed back Ember’s tangled hair, working free the knots with careful fingers.
“We can’t continue this way.” Thomas scrubbed at his jaw, the words barely a whisper.
Sarah’s hand stilled in Ember’s hair. A tear tracked down her cheek before she dashed it away. “I know.”
Thomas reached across the table to grip Sarah’s free hand. Their fingers wove together, anchoring each other as morning light spilled across their untouched breakfast and their daughter’s sleeping form.
Thomas led the guard into his study, easing the door shut. He took his seat behind the desk, gesturing to the chair opposite.
“Marcus, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, fighting back a bitter smile at the name’s cruel irony.
“Aye, sir.” The guard sat, back straight.
Thomas opened his drawer and withdrew a cloth pouch. “My wife plans to visit the market with our daughter.” He placed it on the desk, the coins inside shifting. “I’ve concerns about their safety.”
Marcus’s gaze settled on the pouch. “The streets are unpredictable these days. Especially for a lady and child.”
“Indeed.” Thomas began counting coins onto the worn oak surface. “I’d appreciate knowing someone dependable was watching over them.”
“My partner Rodrik and I take our duties seriously.” Marcus leaned in. “We often patrol together.”
Thomas added two more coins. “And these patrols - they cover the market district?”
“When needed.” Marcus kept his voice level. “We’re flexible about our routes.”
“I’d be grateful for such attention to duty.” Thomas slid the coins across. “Perhaps discuss it with Rodrik? And when they return safely, you’ll find your payment doubled.”
Marcus’s eyes widened briefly before he schooled his expression, pocketing the payment smoothly as he stood. “I’ll fetch him now. We take pride in protecting our more distinguished residents.”
“Good.” Thomas watched him go, then exhaled slowly.
Marcus returned with his partner moments later. Their discussion was brief - routes, timing, signals if needed. Thomas counted out a second payment while they spoke of crowd patterns and quiet side streets. Both guards listened intently as he detailed Sarah and Ember’s plans, offering practical suggestions that spoke of experience.
When they left, Thomas remained at his desk. Not perfect, but it would do. He rose to tell Sarah they could proceed with their outing. At least he’d bought them some protection, however temporary.
The marketplace of Aldermere engulfed them in its morning chaos. Ember pulled at Sarah’s hand, darting between slower-moving shoppers until Sarah had to reel her back.
“The bird man, Mother - he’s here!” Ember pointed to a sun-weathered vendor, his shoulder adorned with a green parrot that preened its wing feathers.
Sarah drew Ember closer as a laden cart creaked past. In her peripheral vision, she caught Marcus shifting position behind a fruit stand, while Rodrik’s shadow fell across a baker’s awning.
“Can we see him?” Ember was already moving, feet quick against the cobblestones.
Sarah guided them through the press of bodies. “Stay within arm’s reach.”This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
They passed stalls of dented cookware and fresh vegetables still flecked with dirt. A meat smoker belched woody vapor into the air, while nearby a flower seller trimmed wilted stems from her bouquets.
“Welcome back, little one!” The bird merchant’s voice carried over the crowd. “Care to meet my friend properly?”
Ember nodded, but Sarah kept one hand on her daughter’s shoulder as she tracked the shifting mass of bodies around them. Marcus had found a new vantage point near the coppersmith.
The parrot cocked its head at Ember, who reached toward its bright feathers. “Does he have a name?”
“Raja’s what they called him in the Eastern Isles,” the merchant said, feeding the bird.
Sarah stiffened at the mention of the East. Her gaze swept the familiar faces of regular vendors, noting who was missing today. “Time to move on, dear.”
They wandered deeper into the market, Ember stopping to watch a juggler’s performance and giggling at the sting of cinnamon that made her eyes water.
“Mother, there!” Ember pulled toward a confectioner’s display of spun-sugar creatures.
Sarah’s step hitched as she recognized one of Blackwood’s men examining fabric nearby. She steered Ember away.
“But-”
“The honey-nut cart’s just ahead,” Sarah said, forcing her voice steady. “We’ll come back after.”
The old woman at the nut cart handed over a paper cone, and Ember’s protests dissolved at the sight of the glazed treats.
“Small bites,” Sarah reminded her, watching Rodrik settle into position behind a flower display. His presence made her skin prickle.
Ember picked at the nuts one by one, lost in their sweetness. “I love market days.”
Sarah touched her daughter’s hair, bright as new copper in the morning sun. “So do I, little fox. So do I.”
Sarah watched Ember’s face glow as the fire-eater sent flames spiraling skyward. Her daughter leaned forward, hands clasped tight, each gasp and wide-eyed stare making Sarah’s throat tighten.
“Look, Mother! He’s swallowing it whole!” Ember bounced on her toes, honey-glazed nut crumbs falling from her fingers.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Sarah kept her voice steady while scanning the crowd. Marcus had moved again, now slouching against a potter’s stall. She steered Ember away from a silk merchant’s display, the guild marks stirring memories she’d rather forget today.
“Can we see the bird man again?” Ember pulled at her sleeve.
“Let’s try something new.” Sarah guided them toward a toymaker’s stall. “These carved animals - what do you think?”
Ember picked up a wooden fox, running her fingers over its ears. “Just like in your stories!”
Sarah handed over the copper without hesitation. The toy was well-made, worth every bit of its price, and Ember’s smile was all that mattered now.
They wandered through the afternoon bustle, stopping to watch jugglers send colored balls spinning through the air. A spice merchant offered them candied ginger, and Ember’s face scrunched up at the unexpected heat.
“Water, water!” She laughed, fanning her mouth.
Sarah bought a cup from a nearby vendor, catching Rodrik’s subtle nod from his post by the fountain. She turned back to Ember, who had already recovered and was pointing excitedly at a stall of paper pinwheels.
“Can we get one, Mother? Please?”
“Of course, love.” Sarah selected a blue and silver one that caught the light. Ember spun with it, her copper hair flying, feet pattering against the cobblestones. Sarah watched, noting every detail - the way her daughter’s nose wrinkled when she smiled, the particular skip in her step.
They passed the silk quarter quickly, Sarah’s eyes fixed ahead. Each familiar guild face was a reminder of what waited beyond this afternoon, of decisions that couldn’t be undone. She found herself suggesting another puppet show, another sweet - anything to keep this moment untouched by tomorrow’s shadows.
“Mother, you’re hurting my hand,” Ember said, trying to pull free.
Sarah eased her grip. “Sorry, darling. The crowd’s thick today.”
As they watched a woman weaving flower crowns, Ember’s eyes grew heavy. Time to leave, though Sarah’s feet seemed rooted to the spot.
“One more treat?” she offered, leading Ember to a baker with honey cakes still warm from the oven.
Ember nodded, leaning against her side. Sarah held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair - sunshine and sweet bread and childhood itself. The afternoon light was fading, and with it, their borrowed peace.
Sarah guided Ember through Aldermere’s streets as the vendors folded their awnings and packed their carts. The last copper rays of sun caught the grime on shop windows and the worn edges of cobblestones. Behind them, Marcus’s steady footfalls kept pace - near enough to reach them in two strides, far enough to let them pretend at normalcy. Rodrik’s outline slid between buildings parallel to their path.
“And then the bird spoke!” Ember swung their joined hands. “Did you hear it, Mother? It said ‘good day’ just like a proper gentleman!”
“I heard, love.” Sarah shifted her grip on their market packages. The paper crackled, and she forced herself to loosen her white-knuckled hold.
“Can we come again tomorrow?” Ember hugged her new wooden fox. “The juggler said he’d teach me to toss three balls at once!”
Sarah swallowed. “We’ll see, darling.” She drew Ember closer as they passed a gap between buildings, counting the shapes in the deepening blue shadows.
“The honey cakes were even better than last time.” Ember’s voice carried off the walls. “And did you see how high the fire-eater’s flames went? Almost to the sky!”
“Lower your voice, sweet one. It’s getting late.”
But Ember bounced beside her, lost in the day’s wonders. “The spun-sugar dragon was beautiful too! Father says we should enjoy the market’s treats. He says that’s what they’re there for!”
“Ember.” The sharpness in Sarah’s tone made her daughter miss a step. She gentled her voice. “Just… walk quietly now. Please.”
A lamplighter moved ahead of them, torch extended. Sarah counted the pools of light between them and home, mentally marking the darkest stretches they’d have to cross. Her hand kept finding the knife hidden in her skirts.
“Mother?” Ember’s fingers tightened around hers. “Are you scared?”
Sarah met her daughter’s eyes. “Of course not. Just tired from our big day.”
“I’m not tired at all!” But Ember’s feet scuffed the cobblestones, her earlier spring fading.
They turned the final corner. Sarah’s breath caught at the sight of their shop, then stuttered again as something moved across the street. Marcus closed the gap between them, his sword hand ready, but the shadow resolved into a cat and slunk away.
“Look what I made the fox do!” Ember lifted her toy in a dance. “He’s jumping like the jugglers!”
Sarah worked the lock with practiced fingers, guiding Ember inside. The shop smelled of leather bindings and sandalwood. Thomas stepped out of his office, coins already in hand. He passed them to Marcus and Rodrik with a grateful nod before they returned to their city watch patrol.
“Can we go to the market again soon?” Ember asked through a yawn. “It was the best day ever.”
Sarah held her daughter close, breathing in the lingering scents of honey cake and summer air. Outside, the sky deepened to indigo, and she marked another day’s excursion complete. Safe. For now.