Before Heena could ask him exactly what he found so interesting, a breathless servant in gray robes came jogging up through the market crowd, bowing deeply. "Master! There you are. Please, let's go, we are expected back."
The man sighed, flicking his fan open one last time. "Yes, yes."
He turned away to follow his servant, but after two steps, he paused and glanced back at Heena over his silk-clad shoulder. Even through the veil, she could feel the weight of his gaze.
"Learn to check the stems," he called out, a faint trace of amusement in his melodious voice. "You will get cheated by people a lot less."
Heena open her mouth to ask his name .
Before the words could even leave her lips, Heena snapped her jaw shut.
Right. Societal rules. In this matriarchal empire, a woman casually demanding an unmarried man's name in the middle of a crowded street wasn't considered friendly—it was basically street harassment.
