[Gale's POV]
I had already purchased an assortment of snacks. All thanks to Ray's coin purse, I thought with a flicker of grim satisfaction. The General was useful for more than just looming and giving orders. I'd even caught a glimpse of Ann playing the hero, apprehending a pickpocket with a brutal efficiency that was almost artistic. It was a side of her I understood perfectly. Yet, the witch was still there. A persistent, silent shadow in the vibrant crowd. Every time I stopped at a stall, she would linger nearby, pretending to examine wares at the adjacent shop, her aura a muted, watchful glow in my peripheral vision. I was starting to get genuinely annoyed.
I continued my aimless walk, my eyes automatically scanning the sea of faces, hoping for a glimpse of Ovelia's familiar red eyes. The need to know she was safe was a constant, low-grade hum in the back of my mind, separate from our bond.
