Chapter 88 - Beneath the Festival Lights

The dying light was aglow, with lanterns dancing softly overhead and laughter and music meandering across the square. Stalls lined the cobblestone streets, their tables high-piled with colorfully displayed merchandise, steaming pastries, and bottles of honeyed liquor. The smell of roasting meat and spices mingled in the air, jarring against the cool tang of night beginning to settle in.

Taryn shifted as the three of them moved into the square, her eyes darting across the lively crowd. Lantern light bathed villagers' faces in a soft gold luminescence, their laughter rising in a steady rhythm that matched the distant beat of a drum. She wrapped her fingers more tightly around the hilt of her dagger—not out of fear, but more out of habit. This kind of celebration was unfamiliar: loud and chaotic and far too joyful.