Ren ducked just in time, slipping past the old woman before she could try to force any more of her good luck charms on him. Blowing out a breath, he rolled his eyes and returned his thoughts to the day's task, stopping beside a sugar apple stall to collect his thoughts, the sweet scent of the sugar making his stomach growl. He added breakfast to his mental list. Next to him, Anik smirked and leaned against the stall's wooden support pillar, clearly amused.

“All right, I think we should-” A tug on his cloak made Ren freeze and he spun around only to stumble over the feet of a young girl who quickly drew her hand out of his pocket. She looked up at him with eyes as round as teacups, wringing her hands in front of her chest.

“S-spare a coin, sir?” she asked in a thick Lowlander accent. Her voice trembled and her face was streaked with dirt, her pale hair tangled. Behind her, a boy even smaller than her was hiding and clinging to her arm, his feet bare against the cobblestones.

Ren looked up to see Anik watching him closely, but before he could make a move, a broom came swinging into his field of vision and Ren staggered back a step.

“Get out of here, you thieving rats,” the candy apple stall merchant hissed, waving his broom at the children, who scattered and disappeared into an alley.

Ren tore his gaze away from the scene, eager to escape the countless sets of eyes suddenly trained on him. The merchant said something, but Ren didn't hear what it was as he squeezed between two stalls and out onto the other side. He didn't miss the way a pair of guards in white uniforms turned their heads towards the sound of the disturbance. He tugged the hood of his jacket further down over his face.

“What are children even doing running around alone on the streets?” Ren murmured, looking over his shoulder as they made their way past a wood carver and a trinket seller trying to drown each other out with declarations of cheap prices. Ren placed the coin purse in his inner pocket, out of the way of small, grabby hands.

“Let me know if you want me to actually enlighten you on the harsh realities of life on the streets,” Anik said, a step behind Ren.

Ren's brow furrowed. “Forget I asked.” He stopped by a a baker's stall, paying for two ham-and-tomato buns, still warm from the oven. He handed one of them to Anik, brushing aside the unpleasant thoughts of starving children. “All right, I think we're done. We can get the horses and get out of here.”

“No, wait,” Anik said. He wrapped both hands around his bun to warm them before taking a bite.

“What?” Ren asked, impatience making the word come out clipped. The longer they stayed, the greater the chance of them getting their throats slit.