10 Balle, Day 11 (3)

The heat of the fire pepper flakes infused the food of her pot and warmed her body from within. As she ate, she observed the establishment around her and wondered about the other patrons who were indulging in food as well.

Everyone seemed eager for their evening meal or the opening of the night market, just as she was.

"A personal guard." Sur Ka'iser motioned subtly to a man dressed in particular clothing, who was sitting with a younger man as they ate.

Verinia looked at them as she took up a serving utensil for the vegetables. The steam of them drew her nose in their direction even as her eyes strayed.

It was a table with four occupants, all dressed the same as those surrounding them and seeming perfectly common at the first glance.

Verinia never liked the first glance. The first impression. She found it to be deceitful, and the books she read for her personal tutorage encouraged her to see beyond what the first impression dictated.

There was no one sitting before that table who wasn't trained in some way, and even though they looked common, they weren't.

Their hands moved with precision. Their eyes were sharp as they surveyed the scene within the eating house.

She said nothing so as to not contradict her protector, but when one of the men's eyes came toward them, she began to speak energetically.

"Do you suppose we'll find a stand for slippers? I've been meaning to purchase some new ones and I heard there is a fashion that's coming to Oalta from the north. Did you hear that as well? It's called 'plum' by the northerners." She made a face of thought. "I don't know what style would be named the same as a fruit."

As per usual, Sur Ka'iser didn't reply to her ranting, but he did cast her a brief look of amusement.

"By grace, and I did promise I would take the children sweets, didn't I? We'll have to begin hunting for those right away."

She continued to speak until she was certain they were no longer being observed.

Usually, Verinia had no trouble passing for a Ros'ni or even the lower rank Ro'ni, but, if those men were part of the city's guard, Zinfrha's Watch, they could see her as suspicious, couldn't they?

The men left before them, having finished their meal with haste. Without their presence in the eating house Verinia felt enough at ease to enjoy her food once again until the time came to pay and go to the night market, where the first stands had begun to open.

It was vibrant, filled with the energy of shouting merchants and eager customers. The scenery was cast in a soft, golden light from the setting greater sun and all manner of citizens moved about, looking as beautiful and golden as the world around them.

Sur Ka'iser offered the princess his arm and she latched on to it as they moved through the crowd. Even in their unassuming clothing, they made a curious pair. The knight moved with a powerful, sure gait, and the Su'Adrit was so small by his side, yet equally matched by her presence alone.

Some looked and whispered to each other as they passed, keeping their sure course until they'd come to a large, dark tent.

A thick, sweet smoke poured out through the slightly opened doors of the tent and they entered into the darkness beyond.

"You'd think they would put up a lamp or two," Verinia grumbled, holding her protector's thick arm tighter. "This must be darker than Coruden."

"You say that every time we come here," Sur Ka'iser replied with a deep sigh.

"That is because this place becomes darker every time we come here." She blindly pressed a hand to his chest, having meant to feel for the space before her.

A hard blade sat beneath Sur Ka'iser's clothing, pressed over his skin.

Truly, she shouldn't have been surprised. Her protector was nothing if not well armed at all moments.

"Welcome."

The pair jumped as the hidden voice hissed into the darkness. Verinia's heart beat steadily in her throat, refusing to come back down to her chest.

"Who comes to the House of Mysteries?" The voice continued hissing in a hoarse, broken tone. The sweet scent of the smoke seemed to intensify.

"Ro'na and Ro'ni Rebvar," Verinia said quietly, "Of the merchant district."

"Ah." The darkness was gone in an instant as long, black curtains were drawn open. A child, younger than Halen, grinned and cleared his throat to speak normally once more. "Welcome back!"

"Thank you." She smiled as they were let through into the main tent. The source of the smoke met their eyes first, a large brazier stood in the midst of the tent as though it were a fountain.

In its centre, the finely shredded stems of the ko'oi plant were lit and smoking with live embers. Those with the habit of puffing came to the brazier to dip the cups of their pipes into the stems.

In the surrounding space, there were certain stands selling trinkets said to be magical. They weren't, of course, as magic had been dead in Tressthei planet since the tragedy of The Final See. The closest semblance to magic the Oaltise had were the manifestations of divinity through House Rifthall.

"Would you care to indulge, Ro'na?" The young boy held a platter in his hands, upon which a newly made assortment of pipes sat in a small mountain.

Some were longer than others, for those who didn't care to puff so often, and some were shorter, for those who put smoke into the air every time they opened their mouths.

Sur Ka'iser scowled. "No, thank you."

"Ro'ni?" The boy turned to the princess, who took a long pipe for herself and released her protector's arm to gather lit stems into the brass cup.

"You won't honestly do that, will you?" The knight asked her in a hushed tone. "It will unwind you, Su'Adrit."

"It will also make me common," she replied in the same hushed tone, pressing the pipe to her mouth. In all the times she'd been to the House of Mysteries, she hadn't touched the ko'oi, but unlike the other visits, her plans differed. "Go, intermix. I'll do the same."

Sur Ka'iser seemed uneasy with the thought of leaving her alone for even a moment, but he stepped away to join one of the chance tables where men gathered to play cards. Verinia did the same, joining a table of women who were immersed in gossip and the loosening effects of the pipes.

"Oh, a Hellfryne." The one with fire hair smiled as she stared at the princess. The pipe in her hand was short and she indeed released smoke with every word. "Lower House?"

Verinia nodded her head, bringing the pipe to her lips and holding the smoke in her mouth so as to not breathe it. "Very low House."

"What brings you to this tent, Ra'ni?" Asked one of light, earthen hair.

"Ro'ni," she corrected gently, the sweet smoke pouring from her mouth as she spoke. It was heavy on her tongue and although she hadn't breathed it, the inside of her throat felt like it had been coated in syrup. "My husband is there. He's null."

"A handsome couple," one with raven hair remarked slowly. Her speech was troubled from the smoke. "Play?"

"Please."