Katya nods, sipping at her soup. She has to hum at the taste. It truly does taste as good as it smelled. True to her brother's word, there aren't any guards that seem actively evident on hunting them down. Staying in the morning market and slowly working their way to the edges might be the best way to go. Plus, there's always the chance of finding something special. Magical, perhaps.
"Sounds good," Katya confirms, checking over her shoulder before following her brother across the path to another few stalls. These ones are selling simple weapons, dishware, and textiles. It doesn't look like anything too interesting, but she acts like it. If any guards pass by, all they'll see is a woman completely enamored with a washcloth.
On the other hand, Innes, although still wary of the guards possibly hunting them down, has more genuine interest in the dishware and textiles. He can't afford to buy anything, or take anything much with him, but he appreciates the artistry, from hand-painted glazes to carefully woven shawls, to hand-spun threads. There is no doubt that he, given his position as a royal back, would absolutely be a patron of the arts. He misses the times where he had constant access to beautiful things, even more than he realized before.
Yet, as he peruses the wares, he is struck by a wave of melancholy, knowing he can't stay here, and probably shouldn't dream of such frivolous things. Yet, beauty and art make his world a little less bleak, to be sure.
From the corners of her eye, Katya watches the citizens mill about. The bowl feels like heaven in her hands–warm, smells delightful, filling, savory goodness… She takes another long sip. She might have to order another bowl from the woman. As she locates the old woman's stall again, Katya notes a few guards looking awfully familiar. They haven't seemed to notice her yet. They look frantic and melancholy and some of their tunics are lightly coated in blood. Whoops. Katya should feel some remorse after taking out three of their comrades, but it's a dog-eat-dog world and she can't apologize for surviving.
To let Innes know of the searching guards, she adjusts her hood and taps his foot with her own. A small signal that shouldn't raise any sort of suspicion. "On our right," she whispers, leaning in to observe the weaving of a basket a little closer.
Innes casts his gaze sideways a bit to lay eyes on the guards. He sighs, clearly exasperated. The running was tiring, and he never really did get used to it. Innes feels a wave of nausea pass over him as he sees the blood on the guards' uniforms. He didn't do it, but he may as well have. He had killed guards before, and thinking about the lives behind every one of them always made him hurt. Made him ill. Did they have families too? Did they just lose their dad as well?
Innes takes a few steps in the direction opposite of the guards, passing in front of his sister. They have made a good deal of progress towards the city perimeter, and he's fairly confident they can slip past soon enough. At the same time, he's becoming restless. He just wants to make a break for it.
"After they pass, we leave," Katya whispers into the folds of her brother's hood. The guards may be oblivious to their presence, but they're still far too close for Katya's liking. She could easily take them out–a sneak attack if you will–but she rather favors the old woman's soup and respects the craftsman's trade. Katya would hate to tarnish a respectable business with violence. "Make it for the next kingdom, then we figure out a new plan."
From the corner of her eye, Katya takes in the symbols and colors of their cloaks. A curse escapes her lips in a pointed breath. They aren't from this kingdom, the coat of arms is far too similar to those she's seen in the past. The wrongful king must have caught wind of their location and sent a galley of his averagest men to find them. Katya still isn't quite sure if the king wants their heads attached or severed, but she doesn't intend to stick around long enough to find out.
"Sounds good," Innes agrees.
Yet, as the guards pass, he notices the small detail too, just a few moments after Katya. He almost asks what's wrong, but he knows. He knows all too well. Innes has just finished his soup, and his grip around the bowl has tightened.
"Same plan. This makes no difference," he whispers, mostly trying to reassure himself into staying quiet and still instead of running. All he felt he knew how to do was run, but even that would eventually bring him to a dead end if he wasn't careful.
(SHIT IM SORRY I THOUGHT I RESPONDED TO THIS)
The guards pass and Katya finally allows herself to breathe, still shallowly. She takes the final sip of her soup. She would love to get a second bowl, but there are enemies too close and she won't risk it for a warm and full stomach. "Break left," she whispers as she steps away from the stall and down the passage. She keeps her hood over her head and just barely dipped over her eyes. She watches the ground and the feet of all the pedestrians. The boots of the guards are engraved in her mind;she'll know if one approaches.
Feeling the presence of her brother right behind her, Katya steps out of the market, luckily pushed right against the forest. It's thick enough that in only a third of an hour they'll be out of sight.
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