Chapter 32

Ysabel walked with a newfound lightness, her contentment evident in every step, and Aleric, being considerate, kept his pace slow, allowing her to fully appreciate the vibrant chaos around them. The colorful stalls, previously a blur, now held her attention. She noticed the intricate detail of hand-carved wooden boxes, the gleam of polished gemstones nestled amongst rougher stones, and the delicate artistry of embroidered tapestries. Children darted between legs, their laughter echoing through the crowded space, while older merchants sat patiently behind their stalls, their weathered faces etched with the stories of years spent in the heart of the market. The sounds and smells were overwhelming yet strangely comforting, a testament to the rich lifeblood of the city.

"Shall we explore these stalls, Ysabel? It seems a shame to simply pass them by," Aleric suggested, gesturing towards the vibrant rows.

Ysabel, startled by his thoughtfulness once again, shook her head. She felt a pang of guilt. She was already taking up so much of his time. Despite her enjoyment of his company—a fact she stubbornly refused to fully acknowledge—she didn't want him to think she was a burden.

"I'm quite happy just walking,"

She replied, her voice soft.

Aleric raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Have I ever given you the impression that I dislike showing you around?"

Ysabel's eyes widened. "Of course not!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly.

"Then I must assume you're the one who objects," Aleric said, tilting his head thoughtfully.

Ysabel's jaw dropped. She hadn't meant to convey that she found his company tiresome; she simply didn't want to impose on him further. Shame washed over her.

"I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, Sir Aleric," She mumbled, her gaze fixed on the ground.

"Ysabel," Aleric said gently.

"What did I tell you before we parted ways?"

She looked up, meeting his gaze. A lump formed in her throat.

"To be grateful..."

She whispered, her eyes captivated by the deep greyish black orb of his.

Aleric nodded, straightening up.

"Precisely. And besides, no one can force me to do anything I don't want to do."

He looked at her reassuringly, then surveyed the stalls.

"So, which one shall we visit first?"

Ysabel's cheeks flushed crimson. She clutched the fabric of her dress, her heart pounding. Her eyes fell upon the small pouch at her waist, a gift from Aleric on the day they last met. His words echoed in her mind:

"I'll just wait for the time when you can repay me then. Just be grateful for now."

Gathering her courage, she finally allowed herself to accept his kindness without the weight of obligation.

"Can we...can we just look around the stalls?" she asked.

"As you wish,"

He smiled, and Ysabel felt her heart flutter.

Aleric introduced her to stall owners he knew, many of whom already recognized him. He led her to a stall displaying dresses—not as opulent as those from a royal tailor, but elegant nonetheless.

"Would you like to buy one? They can alter it to fit you,"

Aleric offered. Ysabel politely declined; she had no occasion to wear such finery.

They continued their stroll, browsing stalls filled with home decorations, pottery, and kitchenware. Ysabel reveled in the experience, engaging in conversation with the merchants—a luxury she hadn't enjoyed before.

Their roles reversed. Now Ysabel led the way, pausing at every intriguing item, while Aleric patiently followed.

"Can we stop here?"

She asked, pointing to a stall brimming with fragrant oils and candles.

"Go ahead,"

Aleric replied, this time choosing to wait outside. Moments later, Ysabel emerged, a sizable bag in her hand.

"So, you finally decided to buy something." Aleric observed, a smile playing on his lips.

Ysabel's eyes lit up. She clutched the bag close, a shy smile gracing her lips. "Yes," she whispered, her heart brimming with a happiness that had nothing to do with the contents of the bag and everything to do with the man beside her.