Vineyard watched all of it.
It watched Rose hold her hand in public, as if it were a challenge. It watched the way the new men moved around her without touching her, but without leaving space either. It watched the way Felicity smiled as if she had never learned how to calculate danger before showing her teeth.
The whispers did not rise loudly. Vineyard was too disciplined for that. They moved instead in currents. A glance here. A quiet comment there. Someone's posture is stiffening. Someone else is shifting to get a better look.
Felicity felt it; she pretended she didn't.
Her hand tightened in Rose's again, just slightly.
Rose noticed.
Rose always noticed.
They walked further into the central square, where supply tables had been dragged into a loose market formation. The air was thicker here with heat from cook fires and the scent of boiled grains. People moved around them without quite bumping into them, like water diverting around a stone.
