16.
“If you don’t mind, would you be willing to spare some time for me after we stop by the cafe?”
Everett offered to treat me to a late dinner. Since the food at the night market’s small eateries was a Capital specialty, it felt like a fitting reward for a professional who had been working straight through the festival.
“I’d love to.”
I accepted quickly, before Everett could change his mind.
He smiled brightly. “Then, let’s hurry before the guards get exhausted.”
He gestured toward the path to the cafe. Just as I had told the guards, the area was crowded; the night market, celebrating the Emperor’s birthday, had drawn throngs of people. Moreover, the path we were taking led directly against the tide of visitors heading toward the festivities.
*It’s not like I’m a salmon swimming upstream,* I thought, struggling to stay upright as I was jostled by the crowd.
Everett reached out a hand. “Stand behind me.”
He moved forward, effortlessly pushing through the crush. I followed in his wake, moving quickly to stay within the space he cleared.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived in front of the unlit cafe.
“Oh, my.” Everett’s brow furrowed in concern. “It seems they’ve already left for the night.”
He stared at the cafe door for a moment, then gestured to me. “There’s a service door the guild uses in the back.”
It was the same entrance he had used when he walked me home before. Rounding the corner into the alley, he unlocked the door that connected to the antique bookstore.
“Come inside and wait for a moment. I’ll be back in ten minutes—no, five.”
He had me wait inside the guild’s entryway. It was a compromise, likely because he couldn’t bring an outsider like me into the heart of the guild, yet he couldn’t leave me alone in the dark alley, either. Perhaps worried about leaving me behind, he kept looking back even as he stepped further inside.
“Didn’t you say ten minutes earlier? Can I time you?” I asked, playing along to urge him to hurry.
“If you have a watch.” Everett gave a faint smile.
This time, he didn’t look back as he headed deeper into the building.
*I don’t have a watch,* I thought. I leaned against the wall of the narrow, dim hallway and waited in silence.
It didn’t feel like long. Soon, Everett appeared at the end of the hall. His face was visibly more relaxed than when he had left, as if his business had gone well. Seeing me leaning against the wall, he quickened his pace.
I stood up straight to greet him. “You came back quickly.”
“I have someone waiting, so I hurried. Shall we head out?”
He opened the door for me. We stepped back into the alley and retraced our route toward the night market.
“Is there anything you want to eat?” Everett asked, guiding me toward a street lined with cleaner, more upscale eateries.
“Anything is fine.” I had already consumed several cups of strong tea and wasn’t particularly hungry.
“Then, shall we walk for a bit?” After a moment’s thought, he pointed to a street lined with makeshift stalls.
“Let’s do that.”
Once again, Everett cleared the way. I stayed close to his side, navigating the crowd with ease. The festival was the most vibrant it had been in years, with plenty to see. The stalls stretched far beyond the usual boundaries of the market. I turned my head, scanning the vendors selling snacks and small, ornate trinkets.
“That looks delicious.”
My eye had been caught by a skewer of chicken and vegetables, grilled in a spicy glaze. Despite the noise, Everett had heard me; he turned his gaze toward the stall.
“That…” He stared at the dark red sauce, which looked blatantly harsh, and furrowed his brows. “I wanted to treat you to a proper meal, not just snacks.”
He tried to persuade me otherwise, but I stood my ground. “But my satisfaction will be higher with that, won’t it? Probably much higher?”
When my gaze refused to leave the skewer, Everett let out a small, amused sigh and paid for it.
“Here.”
I had assumed he would be too displeased to touch street food, but he held a portion of his own in his other hand. It seemed he intended to join me in my night market exploration.
“Thank you.” I took a large bite.
*This place is a hidden gem.* It was perfectly to my taste—appropriately spicy, sweet, and intense. I finished the skewer quickly.
*I want another one.*
My longing gaze seemed to reach him. Everett had finished his portion in only a few bites and gave me a warning look.
“No more snacking, Miss Diaz.” His tone was strict, as if he wouldn’t even let a needle pass.
*Tsk. As if he’s my etiquette teacher,* I thought, pouting when he wasn’t looking as I moved away from the stall.
Except for his ban on street food, Everett was a generous companion. When I stopped every few steps to examine a stall, he waited patiently without urging me to move on. He even let the pile of small paper bags in my hands grow—bags filled with cute but impractical items like glass bead bracelets and small wooden ornaments.
Encouraged by his patience, I wandered around, checking every stall that caught my interest until we reached the end of the street, where the light from the lamps finally faded.
“I guess that was the end of the night market area,” I said, looking longingly at the distant glow of the lights.
“We’ve seen enough, so let’s head back. This is the border of the slums, so it’s dangerous to go any further,” Everett said, scanning the surroundings.
“Alright.” I nodded, adjusting the paper bags in my grip.
Everett noticed the dozens of bags that had accumulated before he knew it and reached out a hand. “Shall I carry them?”
“No. They’re just bulky; all of these together don’t weigh as much as a single bouquet of flowers.” I fluttered my wrists to emphasize how light they were.
“If you say so.” He glanced at my frail wrists as if he couldn’t believe it, but stepped back. He turned toward the market and started to lead the way.
“It really is a bit eerie here,” I said, following him diligently to keep the conversation going.
“It’s a historic crime-ridden area of the Capital. The paths are narrow and maze-like, perfect for hiding.”
“No wonder.”
Everett’s tone was nonchalant, but I quickened my pace, sticking closer to him. He turned to me, laughing under his breath.
“Come to think of it, Miss Diaz, you were the one more afraid of robbers than ghosts.” He teased me gently, wrapping his arm around my waist to protectively draw me in.
“And Sir Rohas, you were the one afraid of ghosts,” I retorted, not refusing his escort.
“True. If a ghost appears, Miss Diaz, you handle it.” He admitted it readily, making a playful fuss, though he stopped quickly when I didn’t join in.
“This street is certainly more suited for robbers than ghosts,” Everett noted, his voice regaining its seriousness. He spoke as if to keep himself grounded, remembering his responsibilities. “When we get back, I must increase the patrols around the night market. It seems likely that more people might accidentally wander in here like we did.”
I agreed. “That’s right. The stall area has widened because of the scale of this festival. It wasn’t like this when I came before.”
“It’s because the border residents who lost their homes after the war have flowed into the Capital’s slums, pushing the boundaries further.” His eyes narrowed, and he muttered that the situation was a persistent headache.
“Wait a moment, Miss Diaz.”
He stopped abruptly, stroking his chin as he scanned the surroundings with a sharp, serious gaze. Seeing him stare into the darkness felt deeply unsettling.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear, I suppose.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” I whispered, urging him for an explanation.
Everett smiled faintly, as if trying to reassure me. “I hear footsteps. It could just be people passing by.”
However, even he seemed to know the probability was low. I carefully turned my head in the direction he was looking. Something invisible to my eyes seemed to be visible to him.
*Why is my luck so bad lately?*
Without realizing it, I clutched his sleeve. “I, I’m going to go to the Temple and make a donation as soon as the sun rises tomorrow.”
The moment I finished my sentence, thugs emerged from the shadowed alley.