They stepped back out into the afternoon sun with bowls emptied and plans loosely formed.
"If you're staying a few days," Balen said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a task he enjoyed, "then we'll restock properly. Not just survival food. Actual ingredients."
"I was planning on actual ingredients," Marron said mildly.
"You were planning on whatever you could carry without collapsing."
"That too."
He grinned. "Come on."
Word traveled quickly.
By the time they returned to the greengrocer, the woman behind the stall was already smiling in expectation.
"Balen," she called. "Back again? I thought you were helping at the mill."
"I am," he said cheerfully. "But I'm also ensuring my guests don't starve."
Her gaze shifted to Marron. Not suspicious. Just curious.
"Traveling cook?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," Marron replied.
"Well then," the woman said, wiping her hands on her apron, "you'll want the greens from this side. Cut this morning."
