The morning sun bathed the bustling streets of the town in a warm glow, casting long shadows as merchants, townsfolk, and travellers moved about their daily routines.
Jolthar strolled through the cobbled roads, his sharp eyes taking in the sights. He couldn't even sleep last night, his thoughts filled with Cleora and her soft, tender lips. He composed himself when Nytheria cleared her throat.
Beside him, Nora walked with an air of resignation, her arms crossed as though trying to shield herself from the reality of their partnership. She had begrudgingly accepted him as her business partner, though her feelings about him being in her mother's life remained unresolved.
For now, she had decided to leave that particular issue to her mother, Cleora.
They stopped in front of a bakery, one of Nora's ventures, and Jolthar couldn't help but admire the scene. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the scents of morning dew and street-side vendors.
