Reynard gripped the wicker cage, the chicken clucking nervously at the movement.
Two copper coins for a future chicken broth. It was a fair price, considering the vendor tried to sell it as a golden egg treasure.
With the market becoming more of a distraction than a source of useful items, Reynard began plotting his way out, moving deeper into the labyrinth of tarps and stalls.
He still looked around, his eyes not focused on the merchandise, but on the clientele.
It was a good place to assess the social and economic situation of Silver City.
Most people were dressed in battered leather or coarse fabrics, but there were flashes of silk from rich merchants and, strangely, many individuals who seemed to be adventurers or mercenaries.
He stopped in front of a stall selling travel equipment, analyzing a pair of reinforced leather boots.
'Mine are fine...'
Suddenly, the constant hum of voices and bargaining in the market was interrupted by a sharper, more hostile sound.
The commotion came from a stall Reynard had just passed, in the central part of the market.
It was a woman's scream, followed by a loud bang and the unmistakable sound of porcelain or ceramic shattering.
A wave of murmuring and curiosity spread, and several people hurried to form a circle around the source of the disturbance.
Reynard hesitated, tightening his grip on the cage. The chicken in his hands began to flap harder.
He wasn't one to meddle in other people's fights, especially in a market full of thieves.
But curiosity got the better of him.
Reynard squeezed through the crowd, wanting to get a view.
In the center of the circle, there was a...
Half-Elf?
Her pale silver hair and amber eyes were the visible marks of her heritage. She was undeniably attractive with her delicate features, despite being visibly annoyed.
It was the first time Reynard had seen a Half-Elf up close. She had the ethereal beauty of the elven lineage, mixed with human energy.
A fascinating combination, he had to admit.
The girl wore tight, practical hunting leather clothes that didn't hide her curves, and her hair, a cascade of silver, was tied in a messy braid.
In her hands, she was holding a longbow, the tip of one of her arrows pointed at a trembling vendor behind a flipped stall.
The ground around her was covered with the remains of broken ceramic pots.
"You will pay for this!" The vendor screamed, despite being cornered.
"I won't pay for trash!" The Half-Elf retorted, her voice surprisingly strong. "You tried to sell me colored dirt as a healing item! You disgusting scammer!"
Reynard assessed the situation and immediately recognized what was happening.
The scammer was exposed, but the way the girl was handling it, using violence in the middle of the market, seemed reckless...
He noticed the murmurs spreading through the crowd, clarifying his curiosity.
"It's her again... That vendor was unlucky. You can't fool the City Lord's daughter." A man whispered.
"He deserves it. She's just doing what the guards should be doing. But she's an annoyance." Said another, looking amused.
Reynard processed the information quickly, understanding where her confidence came from.
The City Lord's daughter.
He turned to a sturdy man next to him, who seemed very interested in the fight.
"Excuse me." Reynard whispered low, touching his shoulder.
The man turned his head and looked Reynard up and down, his eyes stopping at the wicker cage in his hand, where the chicken clucked in protest.
He gave Reynard a slow, strange look, unable to understand why a man dressed like him would be carrying such a common bird.
Reynard ignored the confused look. He discreetly pulled a small bronze coin from his pocket and deposited it imperceptibly into the man's vest pocket.
The man felt the touch of the metal. His eyes lit up, and the strange look was replaced by an immediate smile of satisfaction.
"You are lucky to ask the right man, young noble." The man said, now much more willing to talk. "That one there is Lady Elysia. The Lord's daughter. She's the only legitimate Half-Elf in the city, and she has a temper that really..."
The man stopped talking, as if fearing being overheard, and continued by clearing his throat: "The Lord spoils her, but she has a very... active sense of justice. She hates scammers. It just so happens that she loves hunting and is always running through the market."
Reynard simply nodded, assimilating the name.
Lady Elysia.
He turned back to the commotion.
The City Lord's daughter causing trouble in plain sight.
What did the City Lord think about this? Surely, he was aware. This wasn't a secret. The girl was acting as she pleased in the market, disrupting business.
And no one would dare touch her once they knew her identity, not even the most dangerous merchants.
He slid his gaze over Elysia.
Her demeanor wasn't what he expected from someone carrying that status.
Elysia, still fuming, reinforced her threat, raising the bow slightly.
"I warned you, scammer! This artifact is an obvious fraud! Not only will I break the rest of your trash, but I will call the City Guards to lock you up for fraud and put you to clean the sewers for a year!" She yelled at the vendor, who visibly shrunk.
"Please, there's no need to take such drastic measures!" The vendor whined, trembling. Hearing she was the City Lord's daughter, he knew he was finished and tried to beg for mercy.
Before Elysia could respond or release the arrow, an older man emerged from the crowd, pushing some people aside with his hand.
He was sturdy, dressed in simple but clean clothes, and had an air of weariness on his broad shoulders.
"Lady Elysia." The old man spoke, his voice calm but firm, a clear contrast to the chaos.
The Half-Elf abruptly turned her head, her amber eyes fixing on the newcomer with irritation.
"You, Duncan!" Elysia grumbled, lowering the bow tip just enough to show disinterest. "I told you to stop following me! I'm not a child anymore."
The old man, Duncan, gave a short, humorless laugh that didn't reach his tired eyes. He approached, holding out his hands in a gesture of appeasement.
"I am sorry, My Lady." Duncan said, with a resigned tone. "But, as you well know, I am just following orders. Your father would be very displeased if anything happened to you."
Elysia let out a laugh, but it was a dry, joyless sound, loaded with contained anger.
"Displeased? He's not worried about me, Duncan, you know that!" Elysia retorted, the bow still tense.
"He only cares about the fuss! If I wasn't here exposing these thieves, he wouldn't have to bother looking for me. He just wants to make sure the City Lord's daughter stops causing trouble in 'his' precious market!"
Duncan tried to argue, opening his mouth, but his eyes, which had been fixed on Elysia, quickly moved to the surrounding crowd.
He noticed the intensity of the gazes, the way people were watching the drama of the Lord's family.
Duncan's brow furrowed for a second.
Immediately, the entire crowd quickly shifted focus. Everyone returned to feigning interest in the stalls and merchandise, the circle dissolving in seconds, as if a strong wind had dispersed them.
Duncan forced a smile at Elysia. "Enough drama, My Lady." His voice now sounded softer. "Your father is looking for you. We need to leave here. You can't keep throwing tantrums and running away."
He discreetly gestured for her to lower the bow. "There's an important meeting, remember? He needs you to be present. We need to leave soon."
Reynard, who was standing with his back to them, feigning great interest in the wicker cage, heard the last part of the conversation. He swung the cage distractedly, and the chicken looked at him foolishly, as if awaiting its fate.
Hearing what the old man said, a gleam appeared in his eye.
Meeting?
Were they also going to the meeting at Baron Alderan's mansion?
Elysia, however, was not convinced by Duncan's soft voice. She released the bow and let it hang by her side, but the fire in her amber eyes didn't subside.
"I don't want to go to that stupid meeting, Duncan!" She exploded, her voice full of revulsion.
Duncan sighed, rubbing his chin wearily.
"My Lady, please, don't start. It's not just any meeting. All the local nobles will be there. It's your duty, even if you find it stupid. Your father demands your presence."
"A good man who sinks into fraud as much as the rest of them!" Elysia interrupted, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
She glared furiously at the vendor who was still cornered, before turning her back on him disdainfully. "Don't waste your time, Duncan. I'm not going."
Duncan sighed, the weariness weighing on his face. He took a step closer, his voice low. "I understand, My Lady. But... your sister will be very sad if you're not there. She will ask all day where you are and if you love her enough to attend." Duncan whispered.
He was appealing now.
The effect was immediate. The fury disappeared from Elysia's amber eyes, replaced by a painful hesitation. She bit her lower lip, looking at the ground, the bow hanging loosely.
"I... I'll come back." She said, her voice suddenly low and brittle. She faced Duncan with a cold, determined look that allowed no discussion. "I will go to the stupid meeting. But I will return home alone. I just need fifteen more minutes. Go ahead."
Duncan, relieved to have averted the crisis, gave an audible sigh.
The sister's name always worked.
"Alright, My Lady. Fifteen minutes." He readily agreed, nodding his head. He turned and, without further ado, hurried away into the crowd, heading back the way he had come, ignoring the vendor.
Elysia waited a moment, clenching her jaw. She kicked a piece of broken ceramic, and then, with a frustrated sigh, began to move again, walking deeper into the market, ignoring the stalls and the crowd.
Reynard, who was still facing away, felt the movement behind him. He waited until Elysia's footsteps were distant enough.
'Fate has given me a gift.'
He stopped fiddling with the chicken. Placing the cage under his arm, Reynard aligned himself with the crowd, following the same direction she had taken.