The Market Stroll

The days passed swiftly, filled with council sessions and obligations that weighed on Luxa’s crown. Yet every evening she carved out time for Gregor, no matter how brief, until one night she told him with a rare smile, “Tomorrow I have a surprise. A whole day and evening together. Something we have never done here before.”

Gregor wasn’t sure why walking into the marketplace of Regalia felt more nerve-wracking than walking into battle. Maybe it was because Luxa’s hand was resting lightly on his arm, guiding him through the arched stone doorway that opened into the wide cavern. Or maybe it was because hundreds of pairs of eyes seemed to notice her the moment she appeared.

The marketplace was alive with movement. Lanterns burned with steady white light, casting long shadows across rows of stalls. Vendors called out in singsong voices, advertising everything from smoked fish to gleaming daggers. Children darted between tables, their laughter echoing off the high stone walls. The air smelled of roasted roots, tangy herbs, and the sharp bite of mineral dust.

Luxa walked with her usual poise, chin lifted, gaze steady. Gregor tried to mimic her calm but found his shoulders stiff with nerves. People bowed their heads as she passed, whispering “Your Highness” with a mix of reverence and affection. And here he was, a kid from New York City, tagging along like he didn’t belong.

“You need not look so tense,” Luxa said, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “They will not bite you.”

Gregor gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, but they’re all looking at me like I’m… I don’t know. Your bodyguard? Or maybe some weird tourist.”

“They see you as the warrior who fought beside me,” Luxa corrected gently. “And perhaps also as… my guest.” She let the word linger, and Gregor’s ears burned.

They stopped at a stall draped with cloth dyed in deep shades of blue. An older woman behind the table pressed a steaming pastry into Luxa’s hand. “For you, Your Highness,” she said warmly. “No coin needed.”

Luxa shook her head. “I will pay,” she replied firmly. “And one for my companion.” She passed another pastry to Gregor before he could protest. He stared at it—some kind of flaky bread filled with savory, glowing green paste.

“Uh, thanks,” he muttered, taking a bite. The taste was earthy, with a hint of sweetness. Not pizza, but not bad either. “Hey, this is actually pretty good.”

Luxa’s laughter bubbled up, surprising him. “It pleases me you approve. Many Overlanders find our food strange.”

They wandered from stall to stall. Luxa exchanged a few quiet words with the merchants, her authority evident but never harsh. Gregor noticed how children flocked to her—some tugging on her dress, others simply gazing up in awe. She knelt to speak with them, asking about their families, their lessons, even patting a small boy’s shoulder when he shyly offered her a carved wooden bat.

Gregor stood back, watching. He’d seen Luxa as a warrior, as a queen, as his battle partner. But here, among her people, she seemed… softer. He realized how much they depended on her—not just for leadership, but for hope.

When she rose again, she caught him staring. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Gregor said quickly, though his face flushed. “It’s just—you’re really good with them. The kids, I mean.”

Luxa tilted her head, amused. “Perhaps because I was not much older than they when I began to lead. One learns quickly when one must.” Her expression softened. “But I am glad you notice.”

They pressed on, sampling dried fruits, examining carved trinkets, even pausing to watch a pair of jugglers tossing glowing stones back and forth. At one stall, Gregor spotted a necklace made of simple polished stone. It wasn’t fancy, but the violet hue reminded him of Luxa’s eyes.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he handed over a few coins to the vendor, which he accepted. Then he turned to Luxa, awkwardly holding it out. “Uh… here. For you. You don’t have to wear it or anything, but it made me think of—well, you.”

Luxa blinked, surprised. For a moment Gregor thought he’d messed up. But then she reached out and let him place the necklace in her palm. Her fingers brushed his, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“It is beautiful,” she said softly. “And I will wear it.” She slipped it around her neck, and the stone caught the torchlight, glowing faintly against her pale skin.

Gregor grinned, suddenly lighter, like he’d just survived a battle he hadn’t known he was fighting.

That evening, they chose to dine in a small eatery tucked within the market itself. No queen had ever sat at one of those rough-hewn tables, and whispers filled the room as the patrons realized who she was. Luxa carried herself with ease, ignoring the stares, while Gregor felt his nerves buzz with the strangeness of it all. Yet when their meal was served—simple stew and fresh bread—Luxa smiled as though it were a royal feast.

As they made their way back toward the palace, the cavern lamps dimming behind them, Luxa leaned closer, her voice low. “This was… pleasant.”

Gregor chuckled softly. “It was just like a date. You invited me on my first ever real date.”

Luxa tilted her head, puzzled. “What is a date? We have dates to eat.”

Gregor smiled, warmth rising in his chest. “I’ll show you—and tell you—when I invite you on our next real date.”