I’ll give you three silver dots for it.” The Shopkeeper standing behind a cluttered counter, a rotund man with hair everywhere except his head grunted over a clearly used iron sword he held in his thick hands. A gloved hand came down on the wooden counter with a thump.

“Three dots?! That’s ridiculous! You have one exactly like it hanging up over there priced at fifteen! And you want to tell me this one’s only worth three?” A clearly upset man raised an arm in the direction of his example, which was in fact very alike the sword he was selling.

“That sword,” the gruff man said firmly, “is recently made and never used. This thing you brought me is next to junk! Look at it, it’s got no edge to it, dings and chips all along the blade, and the grip is so worn off it would be impossible to keep it in your hand. The only thing this sword is good for anymore is melting down and maybe i’ll get a workable chunk of metal out of it. That’s maybe. You’re lucky I’m offering you anything at all. If you keep arguing with me about it, you’ll get nothing. Understand?” He dropped the sword onto the counter and crossed his arms, staring at the man opposite him. Anson glowered back obstinately. He knew there would be no swaying the man once he’d put his foot down. Khan was not a fan of haggling and Anson knew that, but it never stopped him from trying.

“Fine. Three dots.” He gave in with a sigh. Grace was not going to be happy about this. “See if I bring you any more in the future.”

“Yeah. Like you’re doing me a favor. Here,” He drops three small rectangular bars of copper with silver circles on either side into Anson’s open hand and tosses the used blade into a pile of similar artifacts near the door behind him. “Are we done?”

Anson placed the payment in his belt pouch and turned to leave without responding. The look on his face was intense enough to cause a startled teenager to move quickly out of the way of the door.

His annoyance simmered while he meandered through the bustling streets and stalls of the market square just outside of The Garden. Anson had always loved visiting Fjorna, especially during the summer. He took in the refreshing sea breeze that ruffled his sandy blonde hair. It carried the scent of spices and seafood that made his stomach rumble. Perhaps some good grub would help soften the blow of his poor sales with Grace and Tu’unda. At the least, soften the blow Grace would land on his head. All in all he had managed to scrounge two silver bars and seventeen dots from the spoils of their latest job, an insulting amount considering all they had to do to get the aforementioned spoils. There was nothing for it, however. The items were either poor quality or simply not in demand in the coastal city. The trio usually nominated Anson to collect the rewards due to his charming disposition but a nice smile and fancy peach wasn't enough in a city where he was just one more pretty face with a sword.

After a moment of searching, his lively green eyes landed on the source of his hunger and he swiftly made his way towards the ordering counter for Eastona's Eatery. Despite the open air pub's busy atmosphere, he only had to wait in line behind one other patron, a lovely young woman in the signature emerald green of the coast. He paused beside her to peruse the menu board posted on the counter, while stealing the occasional glance to the Lady to his side. He could tell she was a true Lady, despite the modest clothing she wore. Her posture, even while attempting to appear relaxed, gave her away as someone who has spent considerable time being berated by tutors for slouching until she was no longer inclined to do so even alone.

Anson was unaware of when his subtle glances had turned into a blatant stare, and when the lady's sparkling silver eyes briefly met his, he flushed and turned back to the menu board too quickly to see the small smirk that appeared on her lips. It was just then by the grace of Ora that a harried looking servant girl approached the counter wiping her hands on her apron and donning a friendly smile.

“Good afternoon, welcome to Eastona's, what can I get you today?”

The Lady moved up to the counter in one elegant step. “Good day, madam. I would like an order of crab rolls please.” She had a sweet voice with a note of authority. If he wasn't sure she was of high society before, he certainly was now. The server quickly marked down the order on a pad of paper and turned to Anson. “ And for you, Sir?”

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Anson cleared his throat. “ Yes, I would also like an order of crab rolls, as well as an order of fried shrimp and I think I'll try the pastrami.”

She wrote on her pad again and read back the orders. “ Very well, two orders of crab rolls, one fried shrimp, and one pastrami. That'll be one silver dot and six copper please.”

“ Oh, no, we're not–” Anson raised a hand to correct the misunderstanding, but before he could finish, the Lady had already placed two silver dots on the counter with a smirk.

“There you are, keep the change dear.”

This brought a more genuine smile to the server girls face. “ Thank you, my Lady. I'll be right back with those orders soon.” she turned and rushed off towards the kitchen before Anson had a chance to protest. I turned towards my kindly patron with a bow of my head as we both made our way to the bench to wait for our food. “Why thank you, my Lady, that was very kind of you.” She waved away my gratitude as she sat down and I joined her.

“Oh enough of the ‘my Lady's ‘ I get enough of that at home. Call me Iris.”

Anson chuckled at her response. “It's a pleasure, Iris. I'm Anson. Thank you for the meal.”

He held out his hand and she shook it with the habit of someone who shakes many hands throughout the day. Whoever this Lady Iris was, she must be quite the business woman. She spoke like someone who was used to controlling the conversation but was missing the usual arrogance of the aristocracy.

Anson relaxed into his seat and released his charming smile. “What brings you out on this lovely day? A bit of leisurely shopping?” He gestured to the cloth bag she carried at her side. “Surely someone of your standing has people to do the shopping for her?”

She gave a light laugh at this statement. “ Oh yes I'm sure I could have sent someone with a list, but if I had done that, think of all I would have missed.” She quirked an eyebrow as she looked at him. “Besides, I don't let anyone handle my pigments for me. If I sent someone to fetch a jar of indigo and they brought back lavender, it just might ruin my day.” she said the last part with a sigh of exaggeration.

His smile widened into a grin at her implication and chuckled. “ I see, yes, that would be devastating. Much better to just handle these matters yourself. So you're an artist then?”

“It is my first love. I'll always be happy as long as I have a brush in my hands” she looked wistful into the sky as she said this, and Anson thought it suited her well.

“ Surely you could have brought along a guard with you. Regardless of your humbleness, it can be dangerous for a Lady of your stature to be wandering the streets alone. Thieves and vagabonds abound in even the most flourishing of places, you know.”

“Oh yes I could have, but to be honest I'm not really supposed to be here.” She gave a conspiratorial wink. “ If my father were to find out I was galavanting about on my own he'd lose his head.” She laughed at her own mischief.

They spent a bit more time discussing colors, with Iris showing him a few of the jars she acquired and explaining a bit about how they were made and why it was important. Anson had never had an interest in painting before but he found himself enamored as she spoke. The joy on her face as she showed him a particularly lovely shade of violet had him engaged to the word. He almost didn't notice the two rough looking fellows attempting to act casual as they watched them from a nearby table.

Almost.

When the server came out around the corner with paper sacks of food ready for them, he felt disappointed that their time was coming to an end.

“Well I thank you for the conversation, Iris. It's been lovely.” He bowed at the waist as he side eyed the two men who were now paying their bill. His warrior's intuition was trying to get his attention.

“It has been. Until next time, Anson.” She gave a small curtsey and turned to go about her day.

“There will be a next time?” Anson called after her hopefully.

She didn't offer a response and Anson watched for a moment as she walked away.

He sighed with a shake of his head. What an interesting woman. He was about to leave himself, when he noticed the two suspicious men he spotted earlier leaving in the same direction as Lady Iris. His smile dropped from his face while watching as they fell into step several places behind her.

It was none of his business, he thought. It was just a coincidence. There were lots of people in the city, it wasn't a crime to walk in the same direction as a lone noble woman carrying many expensive paint jars.

The sun was getting low in the sky, and he could see just ahead as Lady Iris rounded a corner into a small alleyway.

Anson looked at the bags of food in his hand and sighed. What kind of man was he?

He grabbed the bags tight and took off towards the alley

just as the would-be thieves disappeared from sight.