Entering the town, Malak couldn’t help to stare at his surroundings. Compared to the capital, Gathun paled in comparison. However, he felt at home. The layout and style of the city were like Narakzir, the capital, his home.

As they walked down the streets, the buildings were all made of wood and rocks. The architecture matched the one in the Middle Age, but the presence of magic replaced modern technology. For example, the road lamps didn’t use electricity, but light runes that created an orb of light. On the main roads and more affluent neighbourhoods, the ground was paved with stones and carriages could freely pass through. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes officials or the Lord of Nuludarar came to visit the mayor.

Once they reached the market square, the atmosphere rapidly got livelier. Many stalls had been set up. There was a wide variety of products on sale, from fresh vegetables and fruits to furniture and jewellery. Women with baskets in their arms filled the square as they bought the necessities for the day. The quality of the products varied, but nothing was overly expensive. Anyone from the working class could afford it. The upper-class citizens would never set foot in Gathun, as they would get their jewellery from specialized shops localized in bigger cities.

Fortunately, Kian was only interested in the middle and lower-class citizens. In the wake of the tax increase, they were the ones who suffered the most. Observing them would indicate how the Lord of Casrum ruled over his Kingdom.

“What changes did the new king make after his ascension to the throne?” Kian asked while watching Malak check out an oddly shaped piece of pottery.

“For fear of rebellion, he increased the tax by more than half and frequently conduct inquisitions in each province. While his coffers overflow with riches, the populace struggles to survive.”

“Gathun doesn’t seem to fare too badly.”

“This is because Ekzu Rirdris, the Lord of Nuludarar, care about his people. He empties his own coffers to pay what the citizens can’t.”

“Interesting.”

“He is also one of your allies,” Ezrel whispered as he was observing their surroundings for anything unusual.

Kian glanced at his most trusted man from the corner of his eyes before nodding.

“Anything that catches your fancy?” Kian asked Malak, standing next to him.

Malak smiled but shook his head. “It’s alright.”

They walked to the next stall with their cloak still covering their body from head to toe. The reason for that was to hide from the guards patrolling the town. Unless a seller approached them, they did not remain for more than a few minutes. However, they kept their ears open to listen to the citizens' conversations. While most of them were customers trying to bargain for a cheaper price, some were unhappy with the current King yet grateful for their Lord shielding them from the brunt of the taxes. However, the neighbouring territories weren’t all so lucky. Therefore, the import and export of products considerably slowed down. The prices fluctuated to two extremes. While the price of imported products skyrocketed, the price of local products plummeted.

“We should buy a few ingredients for tonight’s meal,” Ezrel proposed as the sun started to lower on the horizon.

Kian nodded before turning to Malak. “Do you want something specific to eat?”

“A local dish would be nice. I have never been to this part of the Kingdom,” Malak answered.

“Take care of it,” Kian eyed Ezrel.

“Yes.”

Malak winced. “I could think about something more specific if it would help.”

Ezrel shook his head. “It is not a problem. Please, do not preoccupy yourself with something as trivial.”

Malak remembered his life in the palace, but after so many years of living as a commoner, he found it strange. He remembered the endless number of maids and butlers roaming the palace to complete their chores. After he married the King, everyone’s attitude toward him changed. While the Lords and Ladies wore fake smiles and sweet promises, the servants feared for their lives in case they made a mistake. Malak used to spend time with his mother before, but she was no longer in this world. The friends he had as a commoner either drifted away by fear or jealousy or tried to use his new title and wealth to their benefit. Although he didn’t regret his decision to wed Kian, Malak’s life in the palace was often uncomfortable.

Malak swallowed. “Go then.”

“There won’t be any delay.”

The couple watched Ezrel disappear into the crowd before continuing their stroll in the market. Once they reached the food market, Malak couldn’t control his hunger and curiosity anymore. He was almost drooling at every dish in sight.

“It’s still early. We can have a snack,” Kian proposed as Malak’s eyes beamed with joy. “What do you want?”

Malak looked around and pointed at a stand that was cooking skewers on a charcoal grill. As they approached the shop, the smell of spices, grease, and meat enveloped them.

When the seller spotted the couple, he smiled. “My dear customers, don't miss my Barag skewers! There is nothing as fragrant and tender as my skewers!”

“It smells amazing,” Malak commented as he reached the grill. “We will take two.”

The seller put two raw skewers on the sizzling grill. He expertly handled the meat while turning and sprinkling different spices on the skewers. In a few brief minutes, their order was ready.

“Enjoy!” the seller handed the food to the couple.

“Thank you,” Malak smiled before walking away to an empty bench.

They sat down. Malak carefully bit a piece of the wooden stick. He silently enjoyed the snack as the different spices and the special taste of the meat danced on his tongue. Kian watched his lover enjoy his food before taking a bite. He had eaten many delicacies from around the world, but he always found the people’s food more enjoyable. All of those sellers worked to continuously improve their recipes and passed them on from generation to generation.

“There aren’t any humans… Or any demi-humans,” Malak mumbled in between bites as he observed the passing citizens with horns.

“Gathun is a town like all others, but it is surrounded by bigger cities like Nulundarar, Jarvik and Elraurt. There must be travellers passing through here to rest and replenish their supplies. Yet, we only saw our kind.”

Suddenly, a stranger sat next to them on the bench. He slowly observed his surroundings before tapping Malak’s leg. Based on his outfit and calluses on his hands, he was an artisan of some sort.

“Be careful,” he whispered while looking at the couple. “You can’t talk about that here.”

“Why?” Kian asked as he also lowered his tone.

The man was nervously observing his surroundings as if he knew he was being spied on. “The guards.”

“What about them?”

“They are from the imperial family. They’ll punish anyone that talks about the inferior species in a friendly manner.”

“Inferior species?” Malak repeated in surprise, but quickly stopped and took a bite of his snack as a group of guards walked past them.

From up close, they noticed the crest embedded in their armour. Kian finally realized why he didn’t recognize it. The Lord of Casrum changed the imperial crest to a new one. Kian worked on his breathing while clenching his fists. At the moment, killing the guards wasn't an option.

When the guards left, the artisan nodded. “The new king has been killing or enslaving the humans in the Kingdom since he claimed the throne. Demi-humans aren't treated as badly, but their rights are limited.”

“We understand. Thank you,” Malak commented, as he could feel Kian’s anger irradiating from him.

“There is also a curfew at sundown. Don’t linger and return home.”

“We won’t, thank you.”

The artisan nodded and hurried away. They didn’t have to wait long before Ezrel came back with a bag full of fresh produces. Seeing his master in a foul mood, he knew better than to ask useless questions.

“We better go home,” Malak announced after Ezrel stood in front of the couple for a moment. “There’s a curfew.”

As if snapping out of a trance, Kian’s bloody red eyes pinned Ezrel down. Cold sweats dripped down his back as he feared his master’s fury. “We need to talk.”