Chapter 17: FRIH - 17
"You like these things?" Ronan asked, following Frieren's gaze to a small, inconspicuous stall tucked between larger ones. Unlike the boisterous vendors, this one was quiet, with a cluttered display of objects on worn velvet.
He didn't recognize the tools , bottles, jars, and sticks? The jars and bottles looked like antiques, with intricate etchings and dusty seams. Some glass was cloudy, as if buried for centuries. The sticks had delicate carvings.
It felt more like a collector's table than a merchant's display. A strange stillness hung in the air. Frieren's intense gaze confirmed his suspicion: there was more here than met the eye.
"Of course, I do," Frieren murmured, her voice low, sharing a secret. Her eyes sparkled , a subtle, unmistakable reverence. "I heard there are nearby ruins. They say they're full of treasures and lost magic books. If I'm not mistaken, these items are from there. I wish I had the money; I'd buy them all."
Her gaze remained locked on a pale green bottle sealed with wax, a sigil etched into its base. To most, it might have looked like junk. But Frieren saw history, possibility, magic. Her hands curled at her sides, restrained.
Ronan, seeing her longing, patted her shoulder. The touch was light, yet Frieren turned, surprised. Her expression was vulnerable, unguarded.
"Stay here; I'll be right back."
He didn't wait for a response, weaving confidently toward the stall. Frieren watched as Ronan spoke to the vendor, who beamed, took something from Ronan, and hurried away, abandoning his stall.
The transaction was too quick, too smooth. She glimpsed the merchant's eyes , wide, almost teary. His lips moved in hurried thanks. Then he vanished into the alleys like a man given a new life. His feigned limp was gone, replaced by a comical spring in his step.
, What happened?
She hadn't seen money exchanged. A barter? A magical contract? Something about Ronan unsettled expectations. He didn't act like a local or a foreigner.
Frieren frowned, suspecting something. Ronan wasn't careless, but his actions were unpredictable. One moment he seemed clueless, the next, commanding.