Night Market Mayhem
As night fell, the weather turned refreshingly cool. Even in the height of summer, the north never got brutally hot, but the daytime sun still left you sweaty and sticky. The city thrummed with vibrant energy. They said festivals kept the place buzzing around the clock, and it was no exaggeration. I scanned our surroundings, buzzing with excitement myself.
"My lady, perhaps we should head back."
I whipped my head toward Ian, who had dashed ahead to block me, his face etched with disapproval. Glaring at him, I snapped,
"Are you kidding? We just got out here."
"But..."
"And I told you not to call me that outside."
Ian looked reluctant, but he bit his lip and murmured,
"...Yes, Miss."
I'd planned this outing meticulously. First, I gave the nosy maids the night off. Then, I sweet-talked Ren into setting up a warp array linking my room to the city outskirts for a quick escape. Finally, under the pretense of punishing Ian, I'd kept him on guard duty until nightfall and dragged him along.
Ignoring Ian, I turned back with a grin splitting my face and shouted,
"Ren, check that out!"
"......"
"Ren?"
"Yes?"
Ren jumped, lost in thought. I'd noticed his brooding expression earlier and gave him a puzzled look.
"What's wrong?"
"Oh, it's nothing."
"Hm."
His persistently dark mood had worried me for a while, but the festival's allure soon pulled me in.
"How is this a punishment?"
Ian still looked unconvinced as he asked me. Shamelessly, I doubled down.
"It is. Do you know how strict our head maid is? If we're caught, it's not just a scolding— we'd have to endure it together. That's punishment enough, right?"
"...The head maid really is terrifying."
Ren shuddered, munching on the honey bread I'd given him. She oversaw the mages staying at the estate too, so they crossed paths often. Watching his mood lift with the sweet treat, I chuckled.
"Don't hate her too much, though. She's Dominic's fiancée."
Not that he'd confessed yet—they weren't official. I laughed merrily and straightened his hood, which had slipped back. I tugged my own hood low, the one attached to my robe.
Ren and Ian could pass, but black hair and red eyes marked the Carpoem bloodline alone. Better to hide it. No one would spot me as the duke's daughter at a glance, but during a crowded festival, it drew unwanted stares.
We headed to the night market first. If daytime brought the dazzling magic festival, night bloomed with the market's lights. We strolled leisurely, buying Ren's favorite sweets.
Amid the stalls, one sparkling with lights caught my eye—a curiosity shop brimming with oddities.
"Oh, what's this?"
"Looks like something made with magic."
Ren sidled up, curiosity piqued. Inside small glass vials floated glowing orbs. Gems? Magic stones? The merchant approached my intrigued gaze.
"Glass carved like jewels, filled with a light-emitting magical substance."
"Such pretty colors."
I eyed the vials in every hue and size. The merchant beamed proudly.
"Right? I know a mage at the Magic Tower—exclusive stock for our shop."
"Ho ho."
"Touch here to turn it off. Perfect for those afraid of the dark—no more scary shadows, and the colors are gorgeous. Super useful."
Like mood lighting from my old world. The simple shapes were a bit plain, but still impressive. The magical glow shifted in subtle, mystical shades beyond mere colors.
"I'll take one."
"Excellent choice, miss."
Before paying the rubbing-his-hands merchant, I glanced at Ren and Ian.
"Pick one each."
"M-Me too?"
"Yep."
It wasn't easy sneaking out like this—might as well grab souvenirs. But they had terrible decision paralysis. Even with time, they dithered. Sighing impatiently, I chose for them.
"Ren, this one! Ian, that one! No complaints?"
"Yes."
"Yes, my... Miss."
Silver-based with green glow for Ren; navy and purple alternating for Ian. The dainty vial suited Ren perfectly but looked comical on Ian. I bit my lip to stifle a laugh and browsed the next stall.
Then, under the lights, something halted me.
"...Huh?"
The shop sold countless paintings, mostly portraits—in frames, pendants, you name it. And what stopped me was Abigail's portrait.
Her angelic smile in the pristine white dress from today's daytime event dominated the canvas. Stunned rigid, I drew the shopkeeper's approach.
"Fresh off the easel from today's artists! Flew off the shelves at the festival—barely any left. Pick one, miss!"
"P-People buy these?"
"Oh yeah. The lady's a rare sight. Artists went wild today! Ha ha!"
The hearty merchant laughed, showing portraits in various sizes. He rambled about large ones for home walls. Imagining territory folk hanging my—Abigail's—face in giant frames mortified me.
"I-I'll come back later."
"Sure thing."
He wasn't fazed, already approaching other customers. A line had formed for Abigail's portraits anyway. Dragging Ren and Ian—who lingered oddly wistfully—we moved on. Ren whispered,
"The real lady's far prettier than that painting."
"Agreed."
"R-Really?"
Their words flustered me. My heart pounded at the unexpected praise. Now anyone glancing at my face would peg me as the duchess for sure. How had they painted and sold these so fast? I yanked my hood lower.
In my distraction, I barely noticed the crowd ahead.
Thud!
I collided hard with someone and looked up.
"What the hell?"
A nauseating booze stench hit me. Grimacing instinctively, I eyed the hulking man blocking my path.
"S-Sorry."
It was my fault for not watching, so I apologized first. But the drunk just scoffed.
"Sorry ain't enough, huh?"
"What do you want, then?"
Ian rested a hand on his sword hilt beside me. But we couldn't cause a scene here. I shot him a stand down look. The drunk sneered down at us.
"What're you punks gonna do, glare at me? Know who I am?"
"......"
Not particularly. And to make matters worse, his burly buddies slunk closer—one and all, intimidating bruisers.
"Hey, Hans. Trouble?"
"Kids out this late? Pathetic."
They cackled, encircling us. Onlookers watched worriedly but hung back. Fine by me—better no interference. Still, if this blew up, we'd have to bail to the estate early. I hadn't reveled enough yet; impatience gnawed at me.
"Why's the girl hiding under that hood? Show your face, c'mon."
One reached sloppily for me. Ian moved in a flash—before I could stop him. He wrenched the man's arm like breaking it and swung a fist.
"Argh!"
"You crazy little shit!"
Chaos erupted. I shielded Ren and retreated as Ian bulldozed into them. The thugs who'd underestimated the boy became bloody messes in seconds.
"What the hell's going on here!"
"Gah, guards!"
I shot Ian a dismayed glare. Caught by guards now? My identity as duchess would leak, spelling public humiliation. We couldn't get nabbed.
"Ian! Run!"
Grabbing nearby Ren's wrist, I yelled. Ian, uncanny in spotting my voice amid the fray, tripped a lunging thug and bolted after us.
"Stop! Seize them!"
"Yes, sir!"
The guards pursued belatedly, but the crowd slowed them. Our escape wasn't smooth either. Frail Ren panted quickly.
"L-Lady... I can't... anymore..."
Soothing his heaving breaths, I ducked into an alley and hid him in shadows, whispering,
"Stay put here. I'll shake them and be right back. Got it?"
"Yes... be careful, Lady."
Confirming Ren's cloaking spell, I spun and sprinted back. Persistent guards still chased. Ian had vanished ahead.
"Damn it. This sucks. For real."
Grousing, I zigzagged alleys. My festive high from the market had plummeted. Getting caught here would trash the duchess's reputation.
And that mood hit rock bottom at a dead-end alley.
"Shit!"
Footsteps pounded from the corner.
Thud thud!
Guards closing in. Trapped, I couldn't move. Cold sweat trickled down my back. Call Pel? I clutched his pendant instinctively. But summoning here would cause a bigger mess. Blast the wall? As panic flickered, a voice called from above.
"Here!"
"...!"
A hand dangled from under an awning, waving me over. Grab it? With footsteps nearing, I seized it without thinking. My body yanked upward.
Hauled to about second-story height, I slipped into the awning's hidden nook. Guards arrived opposite, muttering, but seeing nothing, assumed we'd fled elsewhere. Voices faded fast.
I slumped in the tent space, gasping huge breaths.
"You okay?"
Someone crouched, peering at me. The tight hideout pressed us close. I lifted my head to see my rescuer.