The path Cassandra and Matilda chose was quiet compared to the bustling side of the market. The other side, they knew, was too crowded—too full of prying eyes that might recognize Matilda or, worse, someone loyal to Raxus.
Here, on this less-traveled path, people moved with purpose, heads low, their business their only concern.
Both women kept their voices hushed, their eyes scanning the surroundings with every step. The air smelled of dust and faintly of spices, and the soft murmur of transactions reached their ears as they approached the heart of the Exchange Yard.
Matilda led the way, her movements precise and unhurried. She knew this place well, every twist and turn ingrained in her memory.
Cassandra followed closely, her senses on high alert. Her hand stayed near her concealed weapon, and her mind raced with contingency plans. 'If things go south, I'll grab Matilda, find cover, and move towards the alley. Worst case, fight our way out.'
