61st Ashan 718
She looked different in the light of the trial. It wasn't just that, of course; the fact that she wasn't working meant that her clothing was different. Her skirt was still short but it was to her knees. The vest top she wore showed all the bruises, of which there were a lot, but it was a loose vest and that was that. The market was bustling and the young woman wove her way through the crowds. There was a double criss-cross sling across her chest and, nestled there against her were the twins. Tessa was thinner than she'd been when Celeste was kidnapped. The bruises were purple on sunken in shoulders, thin cheeks, but she was clean, as were her clothes. The same could not be said of everyone here, this area of town was a slum-like area with ramshackle hovels piled high together. But she was mking her way to the hustle and bustle of the market and so the streets grew busier and busier as she walked. Unaware for the moment that anyone watched her, those who did might notice that her make up sought to hide the marks on her face. Since the night before, Xander would notice a new black eye, but as she looked down at the babies held against her, she smiled an entirely genuine smile. Beneath it all, in that expression she looked exactly like she always had.
That Tessa looked different was not in doubt. So, too, did the babies of course - they'd grown. But both of them were healthy, well fed, clean and well wrapped up. Whatever else she did, however she survived, her babies were obviously her priority. "We're gunna go'n get nice food fer Papa, yes, we are." She chatted to them as she made her way around one market stall which sold fresh produce. Her interactions with the stall owners were polite and friendly, she had a smile on her face and she was always deferential and respectful. Physically, she was jumpy and, when someone touched her arm for example, she physically jumped.
At the stall where the woman sold flours and grains, Tessa stopped and asked about quantities. "I wanna make some onion bread, Martha, an' I thought th'moisture in't onion would mean I should change it up" Martha nodded and explained that yes, but it depended on how she was cooking the onions first. Tessa looked surprised at the prospect of doing so and Martha chuckled, then scribbled down a recipe for, presumably, onion bread. People in this area knew her, as a customer, they were friendly to her. None of them looked at her bruises, it was like they saw past them.
Or, of course, didn't want to see them.
By the time she was ready to make her way back, Tessa was starting to think that she'd bought too much, but Benji had given her a list. With the two babies, though, it was hard work carrying the goods. She didn't use the sling for anything other than carrying the babes and so, the produce was carried in bags and, as she struggled through the streets, back towards home, she felt the burning in her arms and legs. As one of the bags tore and spilled out the contents over the street, Tessa let out a cry of despair as people kept walking, some of them even treading on the produce and ruining it. "Oh, no, please no," she said, trying to retrieve the spilled vegetables, all the while not disturbing the babies or dropping anything else.