The smell of frankincense and cardamom coffee bloomed from every corner as Julian walked through the crowded market. Prakra had always seemed too far for Julian, too hot to even be compared to the tepid climate of Nevivon. As someone who had grown up by the coast, and taking long baths on the saltwater hot springs that Mazelinka and Lilinka ran, Julian had never known such a dry heat as the one up north. The high temperature were alright with him, especially whenever he was under the colourful fabric scraps hung above the market stalls.

Now that he was studying under Nazali's wing, they sometimes had spare time to enjoy. He'd found he rather enjoyed walking around the capital with Nazali, since they always had a story to tell him or a place to show him, but he had been craving some alone time as of late. And so, he was eyeing a stall of sweets, shooting love glances at the honeyed figs in the corner.

“How much?”

He finally asked the old merchant once he was done talking to a woman in Prakran. Julian had been taught a few words by his master, some numbers here and there, but he was nowhere near having a fluid conversation.

“Four bronze each.”

Julian heard the woman laugh before walking, and frowned, because that is how much she had paid for two of the same figs.

“Come on, pal, there's no need to be that way.”