The Everiven Winter Market is more than just a row of shops. It is an explosion of light in the freezing midnight.

  Thousands of red, gold, and light blue paper lanterns float low above the main street of the commercial district, tied by invisible threads. Their warm glow reflects on the thin layer of snow on the ground, turning the cobblestone streets into sparkling rivers of light.

  The air is filled with a symphony of scents that is both bold and tantalizing: burning cinnamon, melting caramel sugar, roasted meat, and a faint whiff of pine resin from the shop decorations.

  "Don't just gaze, Rhea! Look at that!"

  Lord Dalt tugged at Mira’s coat sleeve with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old seeing a circus for the first time. He pointed toward a cotton candy stall where the treats could transform into little flying dragons before being eaten.

  "Dalt, your hat is crooked," Henesa gently scolded, reaching out to adjust the position of her husband’s beret. "And lower your voice. You’re making the merchants think we’re tourists who are easy to cheat."

  Mira gave a thin smile behind her thick scarf. Being here, flanked by the two most influential yet most eccentric nobles in the city, felt surreal. She didn’t feel cautious. She wasn’t counting escape routes or seeking strategic positions. She was just... walking.

  “There it is!” Dalt exclaimed, his eyes sparkling as he spotted thick smoke rising from a roadside tent shop. “The Kraken’s Grill.”

  At Mira’s request, they stopped at a grilled squid satay stall. Not a fancy restaurant. Just a street stall with long, rough wooden benches. But the line was winding.

  “Three portions of Giant Squid, extra sweet-spicy sauce!” Dalt ordered from the chef, a man with four arms.

  When the order arrived, Mira gazed in awe. The squid was truly gigantic. One skewer was as big as her forearm, perfectly grilled with a shiny layer of black soy sauce and sprinkled with sesame seeds. Steam rose from it, clashing with the cold night air.

  "Eat it while it's hot," said Henesa, who miraculously managed to eat a large piece of the squid without smudging her red lipstick at all.

  Mira bit into the squid. The flavor exploded in her mouth. Savory, sweet, spicy, and chewy. The sauce clung to the corners of her mouth. The heat from the meat spread to her stomach, driving away the lingering chill in her bones. This was the only food she had tasted in the South that was now in the North.

  A universal food.

  "Delicious?" asked Dalt, whose beard now had a small sauce stain.

  "Delicious," Mira murmured, chewing with her cheeks puffed out. "Much better than the bland grilled fish on the ship."

  Dalt laughed happily. "The secret is in the squid ink. They mix it with a bit of southern spices."

  They sat on the wooden bench, squeezed in among ordinary citizens—dock workers, small merchants, and young couples. No one recognized them. Without royal robes and carriages, the Ashart family was just a small family enjoying a messy dinner.

  Henesa took a lace handkerchief from her bag, wiped the corner of Mira's mouth with a natural motherly gesture, and then cleaned Dalt's protesting beard like a child.

  "You two eat like sailors," Henesa commented, pretending to scold, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

  ***

  After their bellies were full, they continued deeper into the heart of the market.

  This section was denser and more exotic. Traders from various continents displayed their goods. There were miniature flying carpets and scaly daggers from the East, singing crystals from the Northern mountains, and leather crafts from the Western plains.

  Mira's steps slowed as they passed through an alley filled with fragrances. This was the Row of Scents—The Aroma Alley. Here, the air did not smell of food, but of flowers, essential oils, and luxury.

  The shops here displayed crystal glass bottles of various shapes and colors. Fragrant vapors were sprayed into the air, creating a heady mist of aroma.

  Mira stopped in front of a small shop decorated with tropical vines (magically made to stay green in winter). The name of the shop: "Memories in a Bottle."

  On the frontmost shelf, a glass bottle shaped like a drop of water in bright orange caught her attention. The label was written in gold ink: "Tropical Kiss."

  Mira reached out and opened the cap of the tester bottle. She brought it close to her nose and inhaled slowly.

  In an instant, Everiven disappeared. The snow at her feet vanished. The biting cold on her cheeks faded.

  Suddenly, she was back there. In the hot and humid tropical lowlands. She could feel the sun burning her skin. She could hear the sound of the southern sea waves crashing against the coral. And the scent... The sweet and sticky fragrance of ripe mangoes. The scent of coconut milk. The scent of frangipani flowers falling on wet ground after an afternoon rain.

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  It was the smell of home. Not the wild forest where she hunted, but the coastal village where she had briefly stayed before everything went awry. A place where life was simple: wake up, study, fish or hunt, or garden, eat mangoes, sleep.

  Mira's eyes closed. Her chest tightened with a longing that suddenly surged up her throat. She missed the sun. She missed the sweat that came not from training, but from the weather.

  "Do you like it?"

  Henesa's voice pulled Mira back to the snowy reality. Mira opened her eyes. She was still clutching the bottle tightly. Henesa stood beside her, looking at the orange bottle, then at Mira’s bare, defenseless expression.

  "The smell..." Mira croaked, trying to regain her hoarse voice. "It smells like mango. The fruit that grows in... my homeland."

  Henesa nodded in understanding. She took the bottle from Mira's hands and inhaled a little.

  "Sweet," Henesa commented. "Cheerful. And warm. Very different from the heavy rose perfumes that women in Everiven usually wear."

  Henesa turned to the shopkeeper, an elderly woman with a silk turban. "We'll take this one. The big bottle."

  "Wait," Mira held back Henesa's hand. "That's expensive. Look at the price. 50 Kluppe Coins? That could buy food for a week."

  Henesa smiled gently. She cupped Mira's hand that was holding her arm. "Money can be earned, Rhea. But memories? Memories are priceless. And sometimes, we need a little bottle of 'home' to survive in a strange place."

  Henesa paid for the perfume without bargaining. The shopkeeper wrapped it in a beautiful orange velvet box.

  "Here," Henesa placed the box in Mira's palm. "Whenever you feel cold or lonely, use this. Let it bring you home for a moment."

  Mira stared at the box. Her eyes felt hot. At the academy, she was taught how to kill. Here, she was taught how to nurture her heart. "Thank you... Mother," Mira whispered. This time, that word came out easier.

  Dalt emerged from the crowd with a face full of triumph, holding a paper bag filled with something that jingled. "I got it!" he shouted, perfectly ruining the emotional moment. "Pure Moonstone! The merchant was stubborn, but as soon as I started explaining the defective crystal molecular structure in his other wares, he begged me to buy it and leave!"

  Mira and Henesa exchanged glances, then laughed together. "Great job, dear," Henesa said, linking her arm with her husband’s. "Now, let's go get some hot chocolate. Our daughter's nose is red again."

  ***

  They ended up in a small square that had been turned into a rest area. There was a large bonfire in the center of the square, surrounded by stone benches covered with fur cushions.

  A street musician was playing the violin. His song wasn’t a stiff classical piece, but a cheerful folk tune, making a few little kids dance around the bonfire.

  Mira sat between Dalt and Henesa. In her hands was a large ceramic mug filled with thick hot chocolate topped with melting marshmallows. The steam from the chocolate mingled with the aroma of mango perfume she now kept in the pocket of her coat.

  “Look at that,” Dalt pointed to the sky.

  A promotional airship floated low over the market. Its hull was covered in magical lights forming moving words: “The Second Domain Tournament: 3 Months to Go. Are You Ready?!”

  “That’s beautiful,” Mira whispered. Her mouth opened slightly; she was mesmerized by the wonder in the sky.

  "That is a ship that uses Vesthralian steam technology. Their scientists are so crazy that they can make a ship that can fly. Even the dwarves can't make it. I can't even do it," Dalt explained.

  Mira's eyes narrowed, thanks to the translation rune. She could not only hear other languages, but she could also read them. The writing reminded her of her true purpose.

  Ah, without this rune, Mira would just be an innocent chick released into the wilderness of the forest. And perhaps, her mission wouldn't run this smoothly.

  "Don't worry about those words," Dalt continued, his voice low and serious, unlike his usual joking tone. "That's just a show. You have us. You have Kars. And you have the bracelets I made for you that I'm about to upgrade."

  "Upgrade?" Mira asked, turning her head.

  "Yes," Dalt said with a proud smile. "I'm designing an expansion slot. If it works, you might be able to use your 'Imagination Magic' for a full two minutes. Or even three, if you don't mind your hands tingling a bit."

  "Two minutes..." Mira's eyes sparkled. Two minutes in Mira's hands was eternity and wonder.

  "And I've already talked to Madam Lylia," Henesa added, sipping her hot chocolate. "She agreed to give you a dispensation for Ethics class. In return, you have to write a weekly essay about your experiences. Way easier than memorizing how to fold napkins."

  Mira looked at her two adoptive parents. They didn't just give her a name and clothes. They genuinely tried to smooth her path. They were changing the rules for her.

  "Why?" Mira asked suddenly. The question she had wanted to ask for a long time. "Why are you doing all of this? I’m just... an investment, right?"

  Dalt and Henesa were silent. The sound of a violin played softly in the distance.

  Dalt exhaled, white vapor escaping from his mouth. He stared at the campfire. "At first, maybe. We needed the Ashart name to survive. We needed an heir."

  Dalt turned, meeting Amber Mira’s eyes. "But this house is lonely, Rhea. Very lonely. My instruments won't talk to me at breakfast. And Henesa... she needs someone to care for."

  Henesa smiled sadly, stroking Mira’s arm. "We see you. The stubborn lost girl, eating like a sailor, but with a heart too afraid to trust."

  "You’re no longer an investment," Dalt said firmly. "You’re family. And Ashart protects what’s theirs."

  Mira looked down, staring at the marshmallow melting in its chocolate. There was a lump in her throat that was painful, yet relieving. In the forest, packs of wolves watch over each other because of their survival instinct. Here, they were watching over her because... affection? Affection that she rarely received in the south.

  "Thank you," Mira whispered. "For the food. For the perfume. And... for not throwing me away when I burned my expensive clothes."

  Henesa laughed cheerfully. "Oh, I'll just deduct the cost of your clothes from next month's allowance. Don't be happy just yet."

  Mira laughed along too–a carefree laugh.

  Suddenly, the snow started falling again. Heavier than yesterday. People in the market began to cheer. Children stuck out their tongues to catch the snowflakes.

  Mira looked up. Snowflakes landed on her cheeks, cold but refreshing. In her right pocket, she felt the Tropical Kiss perfume box. In her left pocket, she felt nothing.

  Mira rested her head on Henesa's shoulder, while Dalt was busy explaining to a little child next to him why the campfire was orange (something about carbon oxidation).

  That night, the Everiven winter market didn't just sell goods. It gave Mira something that couldn't be bought with any amount of gold coins: the feeling that she finally had a place to call home.

  However, that wouldn't make Mira forget the south. The fire would take revenge and reclaim its land, and it would never go out.