The interior was well-lit and organized, rows of outfits neatly folded or hung on wooden racks.
A few other customers browsed the shelves, and a shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes, glanced up from behind the counter.
"Welcome," she said with a nod. "Let me know if you need anything."
Zayn gave a brief nod in return before heading toward the section with light armor and traveling clothes.
The Witch Princess followed, casually running her fingers over the fabrics. "Do you need help picking something out?"
"I can handle it," Zayn said.
She hummed, but didn't press further.
Zayn flipped through a few jackets and tunics, testing the material between his fingers.
He wasn't going to cheap out on quality.
If he was going to be dragged into some kind of trial for witches, he needed gear that wouldn't fall apart after one fight.
He eventually settled on a dark, fitted tunic with reinforced leather padding, a matching cloak, and a pair of sturdy boots.
