Henry remained at the wagons, coordinating with other merchants who'd begun gathering to discuss road conditions and recent bandit activity.
Vanessia shifted Anya higher on her hip and began walking. "Come on. It's not far."
Anya twisted in her mother's arms to look back at Alaric. "Big bro Azra! Are you coming?"
The name still felt strange. But Alaric nodded. "Right behind you."
They moved through Ashfeld's streets. The merchant quarter gradually transitioned into residential areas, buildings becoming more refined, streets cleaner, the crowds thinning to something more manageable.
Anya kept up constant chatter. Pointing at things. Asking questions. "Mama, can we get sweet bread tomorrow? Big bro Azra, do you like sweet bread? I love sweet bread. Papa says I eat too much but—"
"Anya, sweetheart, let big brother Azra breathe," Vanessia said gently. But she was smiling.
"Where do you come from?" Vanessia asked, glancing back at Alaric. "What's your hometown?"
