He watched the retinue split, royalty in one direction and what looked to be a Queen's guard and footsoldiers heading into the market. They eventually found his booth, to his surprise.
What was even more surprising was the familiarity about the young guard's face. His recognition didn't show on his face; his had ever been a face of stone. "Apples she shall have," he answered immediately. "How many, and what kind?"
He had, it seemed, a plenitude of apples - bright red, cool green, mottled gold and orange. Ilyien brought out one of each and set them before the guard, taking the moment to find a crate for the order. As he did this, he thought back to how he could know this young woman. He was certain they'd never spoken before. He was also certain that, like he, she didn't belong here.
The footsoldiers, however... They were another matter entirely. He chose to keep his tongue quiet for now.