The market of auentia had never been quiet but today, it watched.
Divura stood behind her newly arranged stall, her hands resting lightly on the wooden counter. Before her were neatly arranged sacks and clay jars ,brown sugar, white sugar, and fine salt, cleaner than anything most had ever seen.
Yet no one came forward.
They passed.
They stared.
They whispered.
A woman paused, squinting suspiciously. "What is she selling?"
"Sugar," another replied. "And salt."
The first scoffed. "Sugar? In this quantity? She must think we're fools."
Divura heard every word, but her expression did not change. Calm. Patient. Calculating.
Beside her, one of her workers, Teren, leaned closer. "My lady… at this rate, we may not sell a single bag."
Divura exhaled softly. "We will."
"How?" he asked, glancing at the crowd that refused to step closer.
She turned to him, her eyes sharp with quiet confidence.
"We let them taste what they fear."
Teren frowned. "Taste?"
Divura picked up a small wooden bowl and scooped a portion of brown sugar into it. Then another white, refined, almost glowing under the sun.
"Call them," she said.
Teren hesitated… then raised his voice.
"Free samples! Come taste! No payment required!"
The market stilled for half a second then laughter broke out.
"Free?" a man shouted. "Nothing is free!"
"Perhaps it's poisoned!" another added.
Divura stepped forward herself this time, her voice calm but carrying.
"If it were poisoned, would I stand here and eat it first?"
Without hesitation, she dipped her fingers into the white sugar and placed it on her tongue.
Silence.
A few people leaned closer.
Then a small boy, no older than eight, edged forward, tugging at his mother's wrapper. "Mama… I want to try."
The woman pulled him back sharply. "No. We don't know her."
Divura crouched slightly, bringing herself to the child's level. "You don't have to pay," she said gently. "Just taste."
The boy looked at his mother again. She hesitated… then sighed. "Just a little."
Divura handed him a pinch.
The moment it touched his tongue, his eyes widened.
"It's… sweet!" he gasped. "Sweeter than the festival ones!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Let me see that," an older man said, stepping forward.
Divura offered him a sample. He tasted… and froze.
"This…" he whispered, almost to himself. "This is not ordinary sugar."
More people began to step closer.
"Give me the brown one!"
"I want to taste the salt!"
Divura nodded to her workers. "Serve them."
Soon, hands stretched forward from every direction.
A woman dipped her finger into the salt, tasted it, and blinked in disbelief. "It's clean… no bitterness… no sand."
Another woman grabbed her arm. "How much is it?!"
Divura straightened. Now, her voice carried authority.
"Affordable," she said. "For everyone."
"How much for a small portion?" a man asked cautiously.
She named a price.
The crowd erupted.
"That's impossible!"
"She's lying!"
But one man quickly dropped coins on the table. "Give me two measures."
Divura nodded, and her worker began packing.
The man tasted it again, then laughed loudly. "By the gods this is real!"
That was all it took.
The crowd surged forward.
"I want!"
"Me too!"
"Don't finish it before I get mine!"
"Move aside!"
"Don't push me!"
The once quiet stall turned into chaos.
Teren struggled to keep up. "One at a time! Please!"
Divura moved swiftly, her hands precise, her mind sharper than ever. She watched, calculated, adjusted.
A woman clutched her purchase tightly. "Do you know what this means?" she whispered to another. "Even we can afford sugar now…"
Another replied, her voice trembling, "Things like this were only for the rich in Auentia…"
Divura heard that and said nothing.
By midday, the entire market buzzed with one name.
"The sugar girl!"
"No . ...the salt lady!"
"Who is she?!"
Even merchants abandoned their own stalls to come see.
A wealthy trader pushed forward, examining the white sugar closely. "I want all your remaining stock."
Divura met his gaze calmly. "You will take your turn like everyone else."
He frowned. "Do you know who I am?"
"Yes," she replied coolly. "A customer."
The crowd laughed.
The man's pride stung but he stayed.
Hours passed.
Sacks emptied.
Jars cleared.
Voices grew louder, more desperate.
"You're finished?!"
"That's all?!"
"I didn't even get any!"
Divura raised her hand slightly, and surprisingly, the noise began to settle.
"There will be more," she said.
"When?!" several voices shouted at once.
"In four days."
Groans filled the air.
"That's too long!"
"We need it now!"
Divura's gaze remained steady. "Quality takes time."
A man stepped forward urgently. "Reserve for me! I will pay extra!"
She shook her head. "No reservations."
"But..."
"Four days," she repeated firmly.
Slowly, reluctantly, the crowd began to disperse, still murmuring, still excited.
Divura watched them go, her expression unreadable.
Teren approached, breathless and wide-eyed. "We sold everything… every single grain."
"I know," she said quietly.
"That was… madness."
"No," Divura replied, a faint smile touching her lips.
"That was strategy."
Later, as the market emptied and the sun began to lower, Divura gathered her workers.
"We begin immediately," she said.
"Immediately?" one asked. "But we just finished..."
"We are already behind."
They fell silent.
"Harvest more sugarcane," she continued. "Double what we used today. And bring in more raw salt from Veritida."
Teren nodded. "Yes, my lady."
Then her tone shifted firmer, colder.
"And listen carefully."
They all straightened.
"What we are building… must remain ours."
She signaled, and another worker brought forward rolled parchments.
"Each of you will sign," she said. "A binding agreement. You will not speak of how our sugar and salt are made. Not to friends. Not to family. Not to anyone."
A young worker hesitated. "My lady… is it truly that serious?"
Divura stepped closer, her gaze piercing.
"If our secret spreads," she said quietly, "we lose everything."
Silence.
Then, one by one, they stepped forward.
And signed.
As the last mark was made, Divura looked out toward the fading market.
The whispers had already begun.
The curiosity.
The attention.
And somewhere beyond all that… opportunity.
She knew this was only the beginning.
Not just of a business...
But of something far greater.