Grim tugged at the straps of his breastplate, trying to get some more space to breathe. Divines, he needed to cut back on the ale. Ilyena watched him as they passed through the gate of the Forgers Guild.

“Maybe you should cut back on the drink.”

Grim scowled at her and she grinned.

The men took notice of them as they walked onto the boulevard. The soldiers rose to their feet and gathered before Grim. He watched them inspect him appraisingly while they formed into lines. Edgar approached Grim at the forefront.

“Looks a little tight.”

Grim narrowed his eyes. “Piss off.” Edgar smirked while Grim addressed the men behind him. “Two columns, let’s go.”

Ilyena mounted her snow-white mere and walked the beast abreast Grim while he led the soldiers toward the market. The mood of the people was as somber as the weather. Thick grey fog hid faces and gave the world a feeling of anonymity.

Grim tugged at his armor again. It was uncomfortable around his midsection, but he had been loath to take it off. It was a marvel of engineering. He had seen men move with ease in them but thought it had been from practice. It had only taken him a few minutes to get used to the weight evenly distributed across his body. The joints gave him enough freedom to move as he would normally.

He was also struck by how warm it was. The steel plate and chain completely cut the wind, while the thick, padded gambeson worked as an exceptional coat. He felt invincible within its steel confines and was grateful for the protection. Eyes followed him as he walked through the city. People had recognized him before but now it seemed like everyone knew his face. The reactions ranged from a polite nod of the head to open hostility.

Graffiti had spilled in from the Outwalls. Every corner of every street seemed to have the face of a wolf etched onto the wood with charcoal. Cartoonish drawings of people Grim knew appeared all around him. A drawing of the Earl wearing a crown was right next to another where he was taking it up the ass from a Greencloak. That one made Grim smirk.

Then he saw himself, a noose about his throat. Grim ran a hand over the chain covering his neck. A drawing of Ilyena appeared a block further down the road. She was naked and surrounded by men in green cloaks, the word ‘Whore’ plastered in red beneath it. Ilyena kept her head high and didn’t so much as glance at it as they passed, though Grim could see the tightness in her jaw.

The market was just ahead. The fog thick enough that he could only see halfway across the vast plaza. Hundreds of people drifted in and out of sight like shadows at the edge of his vision. The mood of the oft boisterous square was somber, doubtless a combination of the times and the weather.

People scattered before the complement of soldiers, giving them a wide berth. Grim led them around the edge of the marketplace, avoiding the stalls and the thick traffic therein. He led them toward the more upscale stores of then east side of the square. Buildings with expensive, wide, glass windows stood in a long line, showcasing all kinds of luxuries. Grim looked into the windows as they passed, admiring the fine jewelry, golden flatware, drapes made from silk, bowls full of Taran spices, velvet slippers, and a thousand other things.

Ilyena pulled her horse to a stop in front of a storefront displaying the most elegant clothing Grim had ever seen. Coats with silver buttons, dresses with enough lace to drown a small child, pants lined with thread of gold. Each looked more elegant than the last. Grim sighed while Ilyena dismounted. He wondered how long this was going to take.

Ilyena hopped up to him and pinched his cheek. “Don’t look so glum, this will be fun.”

Grim shook his head as she walked through the door. He turned to Edgar. “You can all wait outside.”

A slight frown creased Edgar’s lips. “Oh. Okay.”

Grim rolled his eyes and walked into the store. It was filled with clothing of a thousand varieties, neatly folded along tables while fine dresses and coats hung on racks along the walls. All was well beyond the price range of the average citizen, who often spun their own clothing. Only the very rich could afford to buy it. That meant that the vast majority was in Venaran styles. Green was the color that dominated.

Ilyena was already walking down the main aisle toward the wooden counter at the far end. A woman near Grim’s age stood behind it. Her skin was bronzed while her hair was black, betraying her southern heritage. The woman behind the counter looked up from the dress she was stitching. Her eyes widened, and a bright smile lit her face. She walked around the counter and moved to meet Ilyena.

They met in the middle of the store. “Melindra, how are you?” Ilyena greeted, kissing the woman on each cheek.

“My lady, Ilyena. I am wonderful, thank you for asking. What brings you to my humble shop?”

Ilyena glanced over to her shoulder where Grim sulked toward the two women. “My brother needs some evening clothes and since he has all the taste of a blind leper, Father made me come.”

Melindra smiled and turned her brown eyes to Grim. “I assure you are in good hands, Lord. Your sister is as knowledgeable as I am. Together I’m sure we can find something to your liking.”

Grim grunted, looking around the room. He wanted to refute his sister, but she was right. He was clueless. “Sure. Anything but green is fine.”

Ilyena clapped her hands. “Well, I’ll let you two get to it.” She turned away from them and walked over to the dresses.

Grim blinked in surprise. “I thought you were supposed to help me out,” he called.

Ilyena waved her hand at him dismissively, not bothering to respond.

Melindra smirked. “I’m sure we can work this out. Come on now.”

Grim grumbled under his breath and followed the woman toward the jackets.

She gestured to the long line of coats. “If anything catches your eye, let me know.”

Grim walked down the aisle, eyes examining each article of clothing. The fabric glinted in the candlelight, the silk sheen making it seem to glow. Grim ran his hand over the smooth surface of the fabric. “Where does all this come from?” he asked.

Melindra seemed surprised by the question. “Uh- we import most of the materials from Tara until the winter storms. In winter, we buy from Venar when the roads are clear.”

“The materials? So, you made all this yourself?” Grim asked looking around at the room full of clothes.

Melindra smiled and shook her head. “Divines no. I couldn’t even imagine how long that would take. Our store contracts with local weavers. We sell them materials at cost and they return a finished product. When it sells, we deliver them a commission.”

“How often do they sell?

“Rarely. Most sit here for years until we have to throw them out.”

Grim frowned. A bolt of silk had to cost a few Harts. He was standing in a room of broken dreams. “It feels wrong.”

Melindra shrugged. “Alone, we can’t provide the selection our clientele requires. Alone, they’ll never come within a dozen feet of them.” She looked at the coat racks. “I’ve known a few Outwallers who were able to move into the Inner City off one commission. The money is not insignificant.”

He shook his head. “Southerners,” he muttered under his breath.

“I was born here m'lord.” Grim raised an eyebrow at her as she contunued. “I may have been born in Venar but I was raised here for most of my life. I’m as Rillish as you are.”

Grim snorted, casting his eyes around the lavish store. “Yeah, I can tell you’ve had a real hard time of the occupation.”

A slight crack appeared in her sales smile but she quickly recovered, plucking a black jacket laced with sliver from the rack. Thread of sliver was laced in a traditonal Rillish weave along the hem of the sleeves. "I think this one would suit you nicely. It's one of the last ones my father made."

Grim's eyes drifted over the fine fabric. "Last ones?" he asked.

All pretense of a smile fled her features. "He was in the tavern where the Venaran officers were executed three night's hence. I'd rather not speak more of it."

Grim frowned, taking in the redness of her eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry." The words felt strange coming out and an awkward silence hung between them. "I'll take the jacket."

Melindra nodded and walked over to his sister. Grim followed in her wake, regretting the sharpness of his tongue. Ilyena was looking in their direction, shamelessly listening in on the conversation.

Melindra held up the jacket. “This is what he chose.”

Ilyena looked the over teh black jacket laced with thread of silver and shrugged. “Good enough. I trust you to complete the outfit.” She plucked a piece of parchment from her sleeve. “These are his dimensions. We need it tailored by sundown.”

Grim’s eyes shot to his sister. “Wait. You knew I didn’t need to get measured for armor?”

Ilyena looked to him. “Of course,” She thumped his breastplate. “I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” Grim narrowed his eyes at her. Ilyena turned back to Melindra. “How long will it take to tailor?”

“About an hour.” She turned to Grim. “You can wait either here or outside.”

"Fresh air sounds nice." Gods, He wanted to get out of here. Grim turned and walked to the door. As he pushed it open, he heard a twang in the distance. His eyes followed the sound. The breath was knocked out of him as an arrow slammed into his chest. It deflected from his breastplate, staggering him. Grim dove to the floor, extremely conscious of his unprotected head.

The Thorne soldiers reacted immediately, rushing into formation and creating a shield wall. Edgar tossed Grim the helmet he’d left in the saddle bags. Grim slapped the metal cover onto his head, the thick padding constricting his skull but taking the edge off his terror. He felt his chest where the arrow hit him as he rose to his feet. A coin sized dent sat right above his heart.

Grim strode through the doorway and crouched behind the wall of shields his men had created. He looked to Edgar. “Did anyone see anything?”

The captain shook his head.

Around them the world continued as if nothing had happened. People walked between stalls. Carts halted by stores and unloaded merchandise. Pedestrians passed, giving the soldiers strange looks. The sounds of the city continued unabated.

After a time, Grim rose to his feet, tensing as he expected another arrow to slam into him.

Nothing.

The city was quiet.