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“And maybe we could buy some new clothes while at it,” Zavian pulled at the old cotton shirt under the hood, something Neera had insisted he wore and he grumbled all through as he put it on. Neera had seen a peek of the Zavian she had known long ago when he was young and free from heavy responsibilities and without the taint of life’s troubles.

“No, stick to the plan,” Neera said.

“Neera, if you wanted to play costume, I could have simply asked for a masquerade ball to be arranged,” Zavian said.

“If dressing as commoners is your definition of a masquerade ball, then this world is a masquerade ball.”

Zavian gave a small smile. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” Neera moved up to him. “Pray tell. What is it you meant?”

Her hands reached up to him, and Zavian brought his head down to hers, reaching for her lips. But Neera took the hood of his cloak and covered his hair back.

She smiled at him and patted his cheek. “Let’s save dessert of any kind for later, dear husband. Now, I would love to have some of that lobster.”

.....

And so, lobster did they both go to get. Neera looped her hand in Zavian’s arm as they walked the streets, and she surveyed everywhere, her eyes filled with the wondrous delight of someone seeing things for the first time. But that was the thing with both Lilah and Neera, the simple everyday things still held a beauty to them. No wonder they never got bored.

Zavian stopped his track of thoughts. He needed to stop referring to them as two separate people, but baby steps all the way.

A man bumped into Neera, shoving her forward without an apology.

“Watch where you’re going,” the man said in a gruff voice.

“What the...,” Neera started, and stopped Zavian from going after the man and dealing with his rudeness. “Leave it, please,” Neera said. “He could be having a rough day and I know he didn’t mean it, so let’s not make his day any rough.”

“Or he should learn to own up to his actions and apologize, and not spread his foul mood over everyone else,” Zavian stared hard at the back of the man’s head.

“But I am not affected, see? I’m still in a good mood, so please, Zavian, don’t be angry on my behalf, and let’s go because I am starving.” Neera tugged at his arm, but his body was immobile with anger.

Finally, his body relaxed, and he put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his side as they walked, and made sure no one would come even close to her.

Neera could feel the tug of guilt in her chest, settled in there like a volcano, always present. It would erupt hot tears especially when the day was over, and she didn’t do anything about the unforeseeable doom.

“So where is this calamari place?” Zavian asked, masking Neera’s face from the dust a passing carriage accumulated in its wake.

“Lobster,” Neera pulled away his coat. “And it’s right across the road.”

And so they crossed, and the street was less crowded. They didn’t get curious stares from the people all through. As both of them stepped into the store, the pungent smell of raw fish thickened the air, and the yells of fat men holding large knives made unsynchronized noises against chopping boards.

Zavian’s frown held his displeasure. “I think we are in the wrong place.”

“No,” Neera said. “We are in the perfect place. You weren’t thinking cooked lobster, were you?”

“That’s the only kind of lobster I thought about.”

“I want to show you the art that’s called cooking,” Neera said. Zavian’s frown disappeared, and his eyes widened in surprise. She might as well tell him they were going to scrub floors.

“Neera, this isn’t the kind of day I had in mind,” Zavian said and squinted his eyes at a creature in a far-off glass tank. “And are those sharks?”

Neera grabbed his hand and headed to the lobster section. There, in the water, those large shrimp-like creatures swam, and Neera pointed out the largest two of the crustaceans she could find.

“I want them killed here,” Neera said to the trader.

“We’ve got no boiling water, ma’am. Would have dipped them in for ya.” The trader said, using his bare hand to handle the squeamish creature.

“No, that’s inhumane,” Neera said. “Put it out on a flat surface, I’ll give it a quick death.”

“Nee...wife, “Zavian was quick to correct himself. “We’ll give the cooks back at home to handle it.”

“But we can do it. Give it here, please,” she rolled up her sleeves with the confidence of someone knowing exactly what they were doing, her dainty hands an indication she wasn’t suited for the role. Once upon a time, those palms had been callused from hard work, gripping the brush to scrub floors and wash clothes, but now, they were as smooth as a baby’s, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t handle a task as little as killing a lobster.

Another trader came to their table, clearly looking to be entertained by Neera. Both she and Zavian were still unrecognized, and Neera liked the cloak of anonymity so far.

“Okay Ma’am,” the lobster man sounded unsure.

“Neera,” Zavian held her arm and attempted to tug her away, but she remained firm on the spot.

“It’s okay,” she told him. She looked as the trader put the lobster on the flat surface, and it raised its claws at her, ready to attack.

“A small knife, please,” Neera requested.

She heard Zavian sigh behind her, and he put one of his knives in her open palm. Neera wanted to scream at him for not even offering to help her, but she studied the creature and looked at the surface around its neck for the spot to stab it, just like she had seen Penelope do one time.