With my new friend Rosalie secured as a perfect alibi, I finally turned my attention to the real reason I'd braved the Oakhaven market: spellbooks. My `[MP: 50/50]` bar was still an untapped resource, a silent mockery of my 'magic-less' official status.
Finding the book market wasn't hard. I just followed the scent of old paper and ink that clung faintly to the air, weaving through stalls selling fresh bread, dubious cured meats, and brightly dyed wool. The book market was a quieter, dustier section tucked away behind the main thoroughfare, a labyrinth of narrow alleys lined with stalls overflowing with scrolls, leather-bound tomes, and loose sheaves of parchment.
This was more like it.
I kept my hood pulled low, my hand resting protectively on the cloth-wrapped decoy rapier under my arm. Even with 10,000 gold in my `[Inventory]`, I looked like just another poor commoner or, at best, a minor noble's errand girl. Perfect.
