“Fresh flatcakes! One for two ranmyas, two for three.” She waved the sweet and meandered toward the gate. “Get your flatcakes right here! No need to wait until chow call for a tasty snack. You, sir. You look hungry. Just two ranmyas for a sumptuous sweet.” A soldier brushed past her but did not look up. Excitement thrummed through her limbs. Maybe this would work. The men barely noticed her. Soldiers who would have pounced on a fleeing prisoner avoided eye contact with a pushy vendor. She was halfway to the gate and congratulating herself when a hand clamped onto her shoulder. Amaranthe
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