"We should head back," Ren said, wiping his mouth with the napkin.
Today felt no less than a dream. How long had it been since he had last visited a place like this?
He glanced at the pile of bags a few men were holding. Zayden didn't want to carry them, claiming they were too heavy—which was, of course, a lie.
For a man who wielded such a large and heavy sword, that weight was nothing. Still, he hired a few commoners to carry their bags.
Ren was taken aback. He insisted he could carry them but Zayden simply wouldn't let him lay a finger on any of them.
They visited countless shops, ate foods Ren didn't even know the names of—street dishes sold only in commoners' stalls, as nobles called them. They also played countless games and won prizes, because neither Zayden nor Ren ever missed their targets.
Hearing no answer, Ren looked up.
