Veer's eyes drifted off to the side, suddenly very interested in a nearby stall selling dried fish. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he didn't want to say.
Kaya's eyes narrowed. "Veer."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "My father cut my allowance."
Kaya stared at him. Then she laughed—short, sharp, disbelieving. "You're kidding."
"I'm not."
"Your 'father' cut your 'allowance'?" She repeated it slowly, like she was trying to make sense of a foreign language. "What are you, twelve?"
Veer shot her a look. "He controls the tribe's finances. I don't exactly have access to the treasury."
Kaya sighed, long and tired. "Fine. Then let's go earn some money."
She stretched her neck, rolled her shoulders, and started walking. "After that, we'll buy weapons. Good ones. Sharp ones. The kind that won't break the first time I stab something."
Veer followed, his expression unreadable. But Kaya could feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
