“Please.” Her voice was a soft plea, layered with quiet urgency. “It’ll only bring unwanted attention. I don’t want to put any of you at risk. Just . . . let it be.”
His expression remained unreadable, but Su Lian’s gaze softened. She turned to her husband. “Perhaps it’s best we heed Yara’s wish. These things often play in an Alpha’s favour, especially one the caravan rely on.”
Xian Jun studied Reiya’s face, determination softening just slightly before he gave a short nod, though tension still marked his stance.
“For today,” he said, “Su Lian and my mother will serve the customers. You stay in the back and work. Besides, Su Lian has an idea for new goods and needs your help.”
Su Lian picked up a stack of finely woven cords in various colours, examining them with a small, thoughtful smile before handing them over. “I was thinking of adding braided bracelets to our stall’s offerings. You seem to have a knack for them.”
Reiya accepted the cords, fingers brushing over their sturdy texture. She remembered watching Leif’s hands deftly weaving similar strands, his expression calm, each braid crafted not for decoration but for the rigours of sailing.
He had once told her,‘A good braid is stronger than it looks, Rei. It doesn’t break under pressure; it just pulls tighter.’
Now, thetask felt like a lifeline, a quiet challenge to rebuild her own resilience in the wake of everything she’d just faced.
“Thank you,” she murmured, grateful for both the distraction and the gentle way it was offered—a reminder that she was trusted, included.
Here, she wasn’t a precious or desirable Omega. She was someone they’d welcomed as one of their own; a bond she couldn’t risk shattering by drawing attention to what she was.
Afew hours later, Reiya tied off the last bracelet, running her fingers over the even braids. Her shoulders ached, and the bite mark still throbbed, but a quiet sense of accomplishment settled in her chest. The braided cords—each a careful twist of colourful dyed fibres—lay stacked in a small basket beside her.
Su Lian stepped over, her gentle smile softening the tired lines around her eyes.
“They’ve been selling well,” she said, nodding at the basket. “It seems travellers enjoy carrying a small reminder of the market with them.”
Warmth spread through Reiya’s chest. “I’m glad. I’ve added knots for extra protection—to invite good omens.”
Su Lian’s smile widened. “Something anyone on this perilous road would appreciate.”
She reached into her pouch and pressed a handful of coins into Reiya’s palm. “Here,” she said, voice gentle but firm. “You’ve earned this. Go treat yourself—it has been a long and difficult day, hasn’t it?”
Reiya’s fingers curled around the coins, the cool metal pressing into her palm—a reminder of what she’d earned with her own hands. The novelty of honest work hadn’t worn off yet, and she wasn’t sure it ever would.
“There’s a stall famous for sesame-honey confections. If you’d like, I can point you in the right direction.”
She looked up, meeting Su Lian’s gaze. “Thank you, but I was thinking of visiting the bathhouse.”
The thought of sinking into hot water, letting it unwind the tension in her muscles, cleansing the lingering trace of Jodhar’s touch, felt like a small escape. Maybe the heat could wash away the weight of the day—the unspoken claim he’d tried to leave behind. With the humid air pressing down, her skin damp and sticky, the bath seemed less and less a luxury and more a necessity.
Su Lian’s expression flickered. “Is it wise to go alone? Ru Rong and I have to prepare supper. We can’t accompany you.”
Reiya nodded. “I’ll be careful. I won’t let Jodhar’s actions hold me back.”
When the woman was still unconvinced, she gently pressed, “It’s just off the main thoroughfare. I’ll be back before supper.”
Su Lian studied her, then sighed, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “The lure of a warm bath . . . that, I understand very well.” She exhaled softly before adding, “Be sure to return in time for supper. You know Ru Rong worries.”
“I will.”
Quietly, she slipped away, weaving through the bustling stalls toward the bathhouse. It rose ahead like an oasis amidst the market’s chaos. Mosaic tiles in deep blues and greens adorned the outer walls, reflecting the depth of water. Stone reliefs of bathing maidens framed the entrance, their serene expressions welcoming her into a place of peace.
Just inside, a small courtyard awaited, slender palms casting delicate shadows over a fountain. The gentle bubbling of water mingled with the faint scent of jasmine and sandalwood. The air was cooler here, the market’s noise softening into a tranquil hush.
At the entrance, the attendant greeted her with a polite nod. Reiya handed over a few coins, and he ushered her through a long, dimly lit corridor where steam curled in the air, thick and perfumed.
The hall stretched in two directions, branching toward communal bath chambers at each end.
“Men’s baths to the left, women’s to the right,” the attendant explained. “Each bath is divided—Alpha-Beta and Beta-Omega. Feel free to choose one that is most suitable for you.”
