The market was alive with the scents of spices and fresh fruit, the cries of vendors blending with the chatter of nobles and commoners alike. Jayde moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her hands selecting the reddest apples, the juiciest peaches, and the most fragrant oranges for Chataya’s establishment. Basket balanced on her arm, she was already planning the quickest route back when a sudden bump jarred her, nearly spilling the fruit.

“Watch where you’re going,” Jayde said, steadying her basket with a cool, measured glance.