The winding rows of merchant stores and balconies were always surefire ways to find a bit of intrigue. Sofia of Marikas often found herself there, amongst the glimmering trinkets and shouted conversations. She rarely needed to purchase anything, but it gave her something to do. Sofia did not like to have an idle mind. It bored her. Occasionally her father or brother convinced her to bring along a guard, other times she was accompanied by a friend such as Marietta, but mostly, she came here alone.

She liked the way the close quarters of the bustling streets clouded her senses. Lavender, spices, and lemon zest filled her nostrils. Heat from the skin of passerby or small cooking fires trickled up her arms. Gossip and laughter and sales pitches overwhelmed her ears. But most of all, the market was beautiful. Colors of every shade danced, illuminated in the spring sun. Bright green and purple shadows swam on the cobbled path as the light passed through the fabric balconies. Gold bangles glistened and tinkled. And people were smiling and frowning and feeling every possible emotion, all at once.


Sofia smiled at the merchant before her and traded a coin for a little golden ring, sliding the trinket onto her finger. She did not need it, but it was nice to feel nice. And besides, she would feel quite strange to spend all afternoon in a marketplace and leave with a coin purse as heavy as the moment she arrived. She bought some lavender sprigs as well, and paid to have the merchant weave them into the little braids scattered in her hair. It felt rustic and exciting. The finery she usually wore was lovely and smooth, but few things sent a thrill to her heart the way blending in did. Sofia did not—or pretended not—to notice the way several other market patrons still stared at her, preferring to believe that they did so because she was beautiful, not because of her softly jangling purse or the proud way she walked. As far as she was concerned, with flowers in her hair and swathed in a simple, pale blue cloth, Sofia might as well have been the tailor’s daughter, or a merchant in her own right.


She walked for a while longer, twisting absently at her new ring. The cool metal was another wonderful sensation, and it grounded her in the crowd. Up ahead, a fight seemed to be stirring. Sofia could not see the offending parties, but the people in front of her were growing restless, and the overall volume of conversation was rising. All the common sense in the world told her it was time to leave, to head back to the Inner Circle, but something rooted her sandaled feet in the middle of the street. She was unlikely to be attacked, and the adrenaline was already beginning to stir in her heart. Why shouldn’t she stay and investigate the excitement?


Though she was far from the shortest woman she knew, Sofia had more trouble than she expected getting closer to the action. The crowd was blocking any path, as well as the view, and though she craned her neck and rose to her tiptoes, she could still not see the source of the commotion. Heaving a disgruntled sigh, she turned her back to the disturbance. Clearly, leaving was the right thing to do, after all.