The morning air was crisp, carrying the smell of damp earth and smoke from the distant chimneys. Asoka stepped out of her house, basket in hand, ready to gather eggs and fetch water from the well. The hens clucked around her feet, as if reminding her that the day would not wait.
She moved through her chores with practiced care, collecting eggs, brushing down the stubborn sheep, and filling the water pails. Even as her muscles ached and her palms roughened, she found small comfort in the rhythm. Work kept her mind occupied, though thoughts of Eliza from yesterday's market brought a lightness she rarely allowed herself to feel. The girl's laughter echoed in her memory, and Asoka found herself smiling quietly as she carried her water to the house.
By mid-morning, Asoka was ready to make the journey to the market square again. She had a few herbs and vegetables to sell, and the small shop still needed attention. As she walked along the dirt path, a sudden noise made her jump—a wagon had overturned a little farther up the road, spilling barrels of apples and sacks of grain. Villagers were rushing to help, shouting directions at each other.
"Oh, not again," she muttered, recalling her own misadventures from last time. Still, she hurried forward to help, keeping her basket balanced carefully. She recognized Eliza instantly, crouched beside a barrel of apples, her skirts dusted with mud, muttering to herself.
"You seem to have a talent for chaos," Asoka said, half laughing as she crouched to pick up a fallen apple.
Eliza grinned, brushing her hair from her face. "It finds me, I swear. I try to avoid it, but it always catches up."
The two of them worked together, laughing quietly, careful not to draw the attention of the older merchants who frowned at their antics. Once the apples were gathered, they moved toward the market stalls, chatting about the merchants, the smells, and the peculiar rhythm of the square. Asoka was struck again by how easy it was to talk to Eliza. She had rarely found someone who could speak freely without judgment, even about simple, ordinary things.
As they set up her basket of vegetables near the fountain, a stranger appeared at the edge of the square. He was tall, with a worn cloak and boots caked in mud. His hands carried a small bundle wrapped in cloth, and his eyes scanned the crowd as if searching for someone. The villagers paid him little notice, assuming he was just another traveler or merchant passing through.
Eliza nudged Asoka. "That one looks like trouble—or an adventure. I can't tell which."
Asoka followed her gaze, feeling a flicker of unease. She had learned to notice details, the small signs that suggested something was not quite right. The stranger moved with purpose, yet there was something hesitant in his steps. He paused near her basket, glancing at the herbs and vegetables as if weighing their value.
"Good morning," he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. "Might I ask where the road leads beyond the hills?"
Asoka hesitated. She had heard of travelers asking such questions before, and some were harmless, but others had a way of bringing trouble into quiet settlements. Still, the curiosity in his voice was different—not the sharp demand of a creditor or official, but something uncertain, almost like a question she had wanted to ask herself for years.
"The road goes over the hills and into the next settlement," she replied carefully, her voice steady. "It is long and not always safe. Are you looking for someone in particular?"
The man shook his head. "No one in particular… just passing through, hoping to reach the town before nightfall."
Eliza, leaning beside Asoka, whispered, "He doesn't look like the usual traders." She smirked. "Perhaps we should show him which way the apples roll."
Asoka smiled faintly, grateful for Eliza's humor. She felt the tension ease, just enough to steady her nerves. Still, she could not shake the feeling that the stranger's presence meant something more, though she could not name what.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of errands and chores. Asoka sold her herbs and vegetables, collected coins, and arranged supplies for the shop, all while keeping one eye on the man who had lingered near the fountain. By midday, she realized she had walked farther and talked more than she usually did, yet she felt a small thrill of energy she had not known in months.
When it was time to leave, she and Eliza gathered their things, laughing again at a stray goat that had wandered between the stalls, narrowly missing the stranger's cloak. The two girls walked side by side along the dirt path, baskets swinging, boots clattering against the uneven stones.
"I've never met anyone like you," Eliza said, grinning as she adjusted a bundle of cloth. "You keep a straight face even when the world seems determined to trip you."
Asoka glanced at her, unsure how to respond. There was truth in the words, yet also a weight. The world could be cruel, more cruel than either of them knew. Still, for the first time in years, she allowed herself to think that there were people in it who could be trusted—or at least tolerated.
"You… make things feel less serious," Asoka said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Eliza laughed. "Good. Someone has to."