Chapter 244: A Gift [Edited]

The night market of Port Azure was a living, breathing labyrinth of colour and noise. Strings of woven paper lanterns in red and gold swayed gently between the wooden rafters of open-air stalls.

Merchants shouted out daily catches, children wove through the crowded paths carrying fried dough sticks, and the clatter of iron woks over open flames created an unhurried, festive rhythm.

Nicholas walked with his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers. He wore a light charcoal henley with the sleeves rolled loosely past his forearms, dark sunglasses resting over his collar.

He kept his steps relaxed, matching Marina’s pace, but his dark blue eyes took in the layout of the market in clean, automatic sweeps—scanning for anything out of place.

"Look at this spice blend," Marina said, leaning over a wooden stall packed with woven baskets of sun-dried peppers and coarse island sea salts. She picked up a pinch of dried herb, rubbing it between her fingertips and inhaling with genuine appreciation. "They use crushed allspice leaves with smoked sea salt. If you add this to braised pork, the fat renders out with almost no bitterness."

The old island vendor behind the counter beamed, waving his ladle. "Ah, the young lady knows her craft! Most tourists ask for sweet syrup, but the real secret is the dried allspice rind. Steep it in coconut vinegar for three days, and not even the toughest beef can resist the tenderness."

"Three days?" Marina’s eyes lit up with intense, culinary focus. "Do you use raw sugar cane to balance the acidity, or do you let the palm fruit ferment naturally?"

"Naturally, of course!" the vendor laughed, already pulling down a jar of dark amber liquid from the top shelf to show her. "Let me tell you about the mountain ginger we harvest after the rainy season..."

Nicholas watched his older sister dive into a rapid, passionate exchange of culinary art, a subtle, quiet warmth resting in his chest.

For the past few months, Marina’s life had revolved around fear, emergencies, and worrying about whether her brother would walk through the door covered in bandages.

Seeing her haggling over dried ginger and vinegar recipes in the middle of a peaceful street was worth every credit he had ever earned.

Further down the cobblestone path, a pair of oversized, pastel-pink sunglasses bobbed behind a rack of hanging woven hats.

Julie was ducking behind a giant clay pot, holding a compact, blacked-out micro-camera in one hand while balancing a skewer of glazed octopus balls in the other.

She had a small wireless microphone clipped beneath the collar of her oversized tropical shirt, whispering into it with frantic, conspiratorial urgency.

"Okay, Peach Blossoms, we are currently deep behind enemy lines in the Port Azure night market," Julie whispered into the mic, keeping one eye glued to the back of Nicholas’s head while pointing the lens at a sizzling grill.

"The food here smells so good it should be classified as an impure psychic attack. If you look closely at that grill, they are charring fresh lobster tails with spiced chili butter. Now, I’m trying to film this without alerting our grumpy security chief, because if he catches me streaming, he will literally throw my camera into the fryer..."

"Julie," a flat, dry voice came from directly above her.

Julie jumped nearly two feet into the air, the octopus skewer slipping from her fingers.

Nicholas caught the skewer mid-fall with two fingers, perfectly balanced, and handed it back to her without looking down.

"You’re standing in front of the merchant’s condiment tray," Nicholas said, looking at the tiny blinking red lens on her micro-camera. "And you’re blocking the pedestrian lane."

"It’s for documentary purposes!" Julie squeaked, hastily tucking the camera beneath her sleeve and clearing her throat with theatrical innocence. "For personal cultural enrichment! You can’t sue me for appreciating local street food, Nicholas!"

"I’m not suing you, not that you could afford it." Nicholas said, taking a step toward the next stall. "I’m just telling you that the vendor is about to pour boiling broth into that basin behind your heels."

Julie looked down, gasped, and scrambled out of the way just as a cloud of steam billowed from the stall’s drain. "See?! Good reflexes! Always sharp!"

A few paces behind them, Katie was tugging on Selena’s sundress, pointing at a brilliantly lit stall across the plaza.

"Selena! Look at the shell wind chimes!" Katie said, her small hand pulling the supervisor toward a shop decorated with hanging rows of polished abalone, driftwood carvings, and dyed coral trinkets. "Marina said we need to inspect the acoustics!"

Selena smiled, letting the little girl lead her toward the stall. "Acoustics, huh? Did your teacher assign wind chime physics too?"

"No, Marina said it’s a very important shopping mission!" Katie declared with a pout.

Marina casually stepped up beside them, checking a woven basket she had just purchased. "Nicholas, Selena, wait here for a second. Katie and I are going to check out the spice jars in the back room. We’ll be right out."

Before Selena could answer, Marina grabbed Katie’s hand, gave Selena a subtle, lightning-fast wink over her shoulder, and steered the little girl straight through the shop’s beaded curtain, disappearing into the rear corridor.

Selena blinked, turning around.

The crowded market street flowed around them in a river of lantern light, chatter, and steam.

Julie had vanished into the crowd to chase a dessert vendor, Nectron and Vixen were two blocks down sampling smoked squid, and Marina and Katie were entirely out of sight.

She was left standing alone with Nicholas in the centre of the lantern-lit square.

Selena let out a soft, amused sigh, crossing her arms. "They really think they’re subtle, don’t they?"

"Marina has been planning extraction manoeuvres since we boarded the ferry," Nicholas said, his expression completely unbothered as he watched the crowd drift past.

"Her misdirection is sloppy, but her intent is clear."

"You could have stopped them," Selena pointed out, looking up at him with a faint, knowing smirk.

"I was hungry," Nicholas replied deadpan. "And Katie wanted a wind chime."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

They walked together down the stone alleyway, the press of the evening crowd bringing them close. Without the constant threat of alarms, press briefings, and combat protocols, the air between them felt different—softer, unhurried, and comfortably warm.

As they passed a quiet corner stall tucked beneath a stone archway, an old artisan sat behind a low wooden workbench, carving polished black volcanic glass and woven sea-grass fibre into intricate bands.

Nicholas slowed his pace, his eyes catching the dark, matte finish of the craft.

He stopped by the display.

Selena paused beside him, curious. "Looking for a souvenir?"

Nicholas didn’t answer immediately. He reached down, picking up a slender, braided bracelet made of dark, charcoal-coloured volcanic stone beads woven together with reinforced, non-fraying nautical cord.

The surface of the stone was completely matte, absorbing the surrounding lantern light without casting a single reflective glare.

He turned it over in his fingers, checking the durability of the weave with a light, testing pull.

"Your bracelet broke during the breach at St. Jude’s," Nicholas said, his voice soft. "The buckle shattered when you parried Shadow."

Selena stilled, her breath catching slightly in her throat.

She looked down at her bare left wrist. During the chaos of the doomsday dome, her field watch had indeed snapped at the clasp. She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone; it was just a minor piece of broken equipment in a night full of near-death brawls.

She had no idea he had even noticed.

Nicholas handed some dollar notes to the artisan, took the bracelet, and turned toward her.

"Hold out your hand," Nicholas said.

Selena hesitated for half a second before slowly extending her left wrist.

Nicholas stepped closer, the heat of his body cutting through the cool sea breeze. His large, calloused hands were gentle, completely steady as his fingers slipped the dark band over her knuckles. He adjusted the sliding knot along the underside of her wrist, pulling it snug until it rested comfortably against her pale skin.

The dark, matte volcanic stone looked striking against the soft blue of her sundress.

"It’s non-reflective," Nicholas murmured, his eyes lingering on her wrist for a moment before meeting her gaze. "The cord won’t snap easily if someone grabs it."

Selena looked down at the dark bracelet, her fingers slowly curling to touch the cool, smooth volcanic beads.

A strange, quiet flutter tightened in her chest, warm and completely unarmoured.

For all his talk about money, and how he seemed so nonchalant about everything else, Nicholas noticed the smallest, quietest details about the people around him—and he answered them not with grand speeches, but with simple, steady care.

She looked up, meeting his dark blue eyes beneath the warm glow of the overhead lanterns.

A soft, genuine blush rose along her cheeks, but she didn’t look away, and for once, she didn’t snap a sarcastic retort.

"Thank you, Nicholas," Selena said softly, her voice carrying a warmth she usually kept locked behind her supervisor’s mask. "It fits perfectly."

Nicholas looked at her, the usual flat line of his mouth softening into the faintest, easiest smile.

"Of course it does," Nicholas said. "I’m a professional."

From behind the corner of the souvenir shop, two pairs of eyes peeked through the hanging wind chimes.

Katie clutched Marina’s hand, whispering in awe, "Marina, look! He gave her the shiny black rope!"

"It’s a bracelet, sweetie," Marina chuckled quietly, resting her hands on Katie’s shoulders with a deeply satisfied grin.

"And phase two is going even better than planned."