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kinich silently cursed under his breath. his pay for the night had gone up in smoke.
the night market was a sensory overload—smells of spiced meats, strange floral incense, and roasting food mixing together in the crowded, chaotic streets. it was a stark contrast to the quiet, controlled atmosphere of the palace. kinich, usually able to navigate these kinds of environments with ease, found himself on edge for an entirely different reason tonight. his senses weren't tuned to the potential dangers around him, but instead to you—the princess, who seemed to be a whirlwind of energy.
he'd imagined a hundred different scenarios for how this job might unfold, but none of them involved you. and none of them involved quite so much enthusiasm.
bundled in his cloak, you were like a child let loose in a candy store. every movement you made was filled with excitement and clumsiness, as if you were experiencing this world for the first time, and perhaps you were. kinich stayed close, his eyes constantly scanning the area, always a half-step behind you.
at one stall overflowing with trinkets, you stopped abruptly, and kinich nearly bumped into your back. you were captivated by something, a chipped porcelain doll of all things. "it's beautiful," you murmured, reaching out with gloved fingers to touch the flawed figure.
kinich frowned. "it's missing an eye."
"that just makes it more valuable," you said, voice laced with earnestness. "like they say, damage means it went through a lot, and that makes it valuable, right?"
kinich snorted, a rare sound of amusement from him. "what kind of logic is that? you read that in a children's book?"
undeterred, you haggled with the vendor, surprising him with your firmness—though, of course, you overpaid. you didn't seem to notice, too caught up in the thrill of the purchase. kinich made a mental note to pay the vendor a visit later, just a simple talk, nothing extreme.
clutching your new treasure, you looked as though you'd been handed the world.
this same pattern repeated itself throughout the night. you gobbled up spiced pastries with gusto despite kinich's muttered warnings about stomachaches. you admired handwoven tapestries, reverent over items that looked more like rags to him. you even listened, completely engrossed, to an old woman's tall tales meant to sell her wares, believing every exaggerated word.
