He studied me, head tilted, his dark eyes reflecting the shifting light of the lantern-fish above. "You're not like them." A subtle nod toward the merchants, the children darting past. "You don't move the way they do. Your gaze still searches, as though the ground might give way beneath you."
I opened my mouth to deny it, to say I belong, but the words stuck fast. Because he was right.
"Don't be afraid," he said softly, leaning just close enough for his voice to cut through the noise of the market. "A place like this can swallow the unwary. But sometimes, it offers exactly what you're searching for."
The air around us seemed to still, the chaos of the street fading into the rhythm of his words.
And against the warning in my own chest, I found myself listening.
A commotion stirred near the end of the street. A merchant barked harshly, his words slicing through the crowd as his arm shot out, blocking my path. "You outsider. Don't touch what you can't pay for."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I hadn't even touched his wares, but already eyes turned, sharp and suspicious, pressing against me like the weight of the sea itself. My throat closed, no words rising to defend myself.
Before I could move, the stranger stepped forward.
"That's enough," he said, his tone calm but edged with authority. His hand rested lightly on the merchant's stall, and in an instant, the man's anger faltered. The other voices died away, the crowd shifting back, as if the very current itself bent to him.
"She meant no harm," he continued smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine. "Let her be."
The merchant muttered, backing down, his eyes suddenly uncertain. And just like that, the pressure around me lifted.
I exhaled shakily, only then realizing how tightly I had been gripping the fruit. "Thank you," I whispered.
He inclined his head, almost courtly, though his smile lingered just a moment too long. "No thanks are needed. But…" His eyes caught the drifting glow of the lanterns, and for an instant, something darker flickered in their depths. "It's not wise to wander alone here. Let me walk with you."
The offer should have unsettled me. But instead, relief spilled through my chest like a sudden breath of air.
I nodded, hesitating only a heartbeat before stepping into stride beside him.
Somewhere behind me, the voices of the market rose again. But their sound was distant, muffled, as though the world itself blurred away until only his presence remained.
And in that fragile silence, I realized: I had let a stranger into my shadow.