Elara didn't waste time. With a grin, she grabbed Cruzer's wrist and tugged him into the crowd, weaving through the bustling street with the ease of someone who knew exactly where she was going—or at least was good at pretending she did.
Jean fell in step beside them, her arms casually crossed, but her eyes never stopped scanning. Cruzer could tell she was relaxed—but never off guard. That was one of the things he respected most about her. No matter the situation, Jean was always ready.
They passed by a row of merchant stalls, the colors vibrant, the scents even more tempting. There was laughter in the air, chatter in a dozen languages, the hum of enchanted objects reacting to the ambient mana. It was easy to forget the weight of the tournament, the abyss, even Gin, in a place like this.
Almost.
