"Just a humble general store," Heena answered seamlessly. "Groceries, simple household supplies, some stationary. Nothing that will make me a billionaire overnight, but enough to feed a family honestly."
"A grocery store?" The men perked up instantly, their domestic instincts taking over.
"Oh, that is wonderful! We desperately need a reliable place to buy rice and ink without walking all the way to the West District!"
"Will you carry the good mountain garlic?"
"You must stock date-wood charcoal, My Lady, the cheap ash ruins the winter linens!"
Surrounded by the enthusiastic chatter of the neighborhood elders, Heena smiled, letting their gossipy, comforting noise wash over her. Her back was screaming in pain, and she was dead on her feet, but as the older men enthusiastically debated the best brand of rock sugar she should stock, she knew her disguise was flawless. The East Market had officially adopted her.
