"Come over and look at these, Seb. Their colors are beautiful."
"Coming."
Seven shifted his gaze and walked over to where Iria was standing. Below them, a school of vibrant Koi fish glided effortlessly through crystal-clear river water.
"They are called Koi. I believe they symbolize perseverance as they are quite resilient and ambitious creatures."
Iria folded her hands neatly in front of her dress.
"They are also quite pretty."
"...I see."
Iria then continued walking, but Seven's gaze remained fixed on the school of Koi fishes that suddenly ran away from a catfish.
He then followed Iria.
Step, step.
As they walked past a row of wooden houses, Seven found himself glancing at Iria's side profile.
Iria was currently explaining the village's traditional architecture, its primary trade goods, and local customs like that of a seasoned tour guide.
But amidst all that.
'Woah, woah. This lady beside me is a terrifyingly good actor. Her behavior looks completely natural.'
The thing is, Iria had asked for permission to drop formal honorifics temporarily to avoid drawing attention.
But seeing her switch characters so flawlessly was another thing, that for some reason, it scares him.
Step.
Before long, they reached the village square.
At the center stood a communal stone well with a heavy wooden pulley, and a small silver bell attached on the side.
"Bah!"
A sudden, loud shout startled both of them.
"Move. If you both are going to act all lovey dovey, get the heck out of the middle of the road!"
It belonged to an old man perched atop an ox-drawn wooden cart that was just a few inches away behind them.
Iria stepped to the side, lightly tugging Seven back by his sleeve.
"Tch! If my reflexes weren't so sharp, you two would be flat as pancakes under these wheels right now."
Seven's face contorted.
'The fudge?! Is this old geezer blind? There's clearly enough space for his cart to pass through.'
Indeed. Seven and Iria had been walking along the edge of the path from the very beginning.
"You damn old—"
Pinch.
Iria sharply nipped the skin on Seven's wrist, cutting him off instantly.
Looking at her, Iria met his eyes with a silent warning look that clearly translated to the word: BEHAVE.
'Damn it.'
Seven had no choice but to back down.
"Go find an open field if you want to stare into each other's eyes like that. Bah. I swear that couples these days lack proper discipline."
The old man grumbled and flicked the reins.
A short distance down the path, the wooden cart pulled up beside one of the larger wooden houses. Judging by the massive bundles of goods tied to the back of the cart, the old man was likely a merchant.
And a loud one at that. His furious shouting quickly echoed.
"I crossed half the continent through snow and thick mud, and this is the garbage price you offer me?!"
The merchant threw his hands into the air.
"Fine! You get to keep your products, and I get to keep my cito!"
Snow sprayed from the old man's heavy sleeves as he scrambled back onto the driver's seat. He then aggressively turned the wooden cart around, steering the ox straight back toward Seven and Iria.
As the wooden cart rolled past them, the old man slammed the brakes and stared down at Seven.
To be more precise, the old man didn't say a word. He simply stared, unblinking, for about a solid minute.
Seven's brow furrowed.
"The fudge you want, geezer?"
"Tch."
The old man scanned Seven from head to toe one last time before clicking his tongue.
"Bah! Stubborn bastards, the lot of you."
The old man whipped the reins again and vanished down the path, heading towards the exit of the village.
Seven exhaled, trying to reset his irritation.
"I think that old geezer has a few screws loose in his head. What a pain."
Iria simply shook her head, equally baffled by the merchant's temperament.
After that, Iria reached into her pocket and fished out a heavy leather pouch and handed it over.
"If it is not too much of a favor, could you hold onto this? It is quite heavy for my pocket."
"Sure."
Seven took the pouch and followed Iria right toward the house that the merchant had just stormed out of.
The pouch sagged heavily in his palm. It felt like a well-fed pig ready for slaughter.
Curious, Seven loosened the drawstring and peeked inside.
'Heh, not bad. These are all silvers. I guess being the youngest son of a high nobility family actually has its perks.'
The pouch was packed with silver square coins. Each one had soft rounded corners with fine notches lining the edges to prevent shaving.
A 7-pointed star was engraved on the face of the coin, and the tail of the coin bore the design of a cruise ship.
Seven tightened the pouch again.
Carrying this much in the broad daylight felt like walking through a chicken yard with feed spilling from his pockets.
It felt like he was a walking target.
Step, step.
They arrived at the house.
Like the rest of houses here in Neamh, this one was also constructed from thick, interlocking timber planks.
A slanted roof above kept the heavy snow from accumulating, and a thin, lazy ribbon of gray smoke drifted from the chimney.
A small wooden extension had been built next to the front door, creating a narrow counter that faced the main path. Crates and woven baskets filled with fresh produce were stacked neatly behind it.
"Good day, aunt Mabel. Though it seems that the day has not treated you very well this morning, aha."
An elderly woman was sorting through a basket of root veggies. Deep lines creased her face, but her gray eyes instantly softened the moment she recognized Iria.
"That old bastard."
Mabel brushed off the dirt from her hands.
"Comes all the way up the valley just to haggle over a few miserable silvers. Hmp. He wanted these premium roots for the price of roadside weeds."
Mabel nodded toward the direction of the cart from earlier, her expression sour.
"I bet his purse strings are tighter than a winter drum."
Iria responded with a sympathetic smile as she scanned the neatly arranged baskets.
"Traveling merchants are indeed always difficult to deal with, aunt Mabel. In any case, what do you have left for today?"
"What you see is what you get."
Mabel shrugged.
"Turnips. Radishes. Beets. Parsnips. I pulled them out of the ground yesterday, before the snow started to fall."
Seven stepped closer and curiously picked up a large turnip, larger than his palms. He lightly brushed a smudge of dirt off its skin.
Mabel snatched his wrist.
"Ah-ah-ah."
Gently but firmly, Mabel took the turnip out of his hand.
"You can't just go grabbing big things like that, young man. People still need to eat these. I don't want them all handled raw and rough before they even reach a pot."
Mabel wiped the turnip clean with a cloth and placed it carefully back into the basket.
Mabel then finally looked at him properly for the first time, narrowing her eyes as she leaned her elbows on the wooden counter.
"…And who might you be? I don't recall seeing a face like yours around our Iria before."
"I—"
"I apologize for my fiancé, aunt Mabel."
Iria interrupted him.
"I am afraid it is his first time visiting a humble village. But I assure you, aunt Mabel, that his pockets are much deeper than that wretched old merchant."
"…Hmm. Fiancé?"
Iria smiled politely.
"Yes, aunt Mabel. This is Seb, my fiancé."
Seven didn't expect his backstory to be his fiance, when in fact, he could just be introduced as her younger brother. But he wasn't dense enough to miss the intention behind it.
Seven extended his hand for a polite handshake.
"Nice to meet you, aunt Mabel. Your harvest looks incredibly fresh."
"…"
Mabel didn't take his hand. Instead, she just blinked, her eyes darting back and forth as she looked between the two of them.
Particularly, Mabel took a closer look at 'Seb'.
He was not built like a knight, but he possessed long limbs and broad shoulders, though his complexion was quite frail. Nonetheless, his sharp features carried the air of nobility.
Standing next to Iria, whose beauty was already breathtaking, Mabel thought that the two of them looked remarkably picture-perfect.
"Mmm. So, Iria has finally brought a man up the humble valley. A noble one, no less."
Mabel adjusted her apron and pushed a basket of turnips directly toward Seven.
"Well then, young Seb. If you are planning on marrying our girl here, you'd better learn how to inspect veggies without bruising them."
Mabel tapped the wood.
"For you, I shall give a special discount. 15 bronze cito. Deal?"
Iria's polite smile vanished.
"Aunt Mabel."
"What?"
"That is three times the market price."