" what was that?!" Lorcan stiffen up.
" I think it my dad!" Aiden said softly.
But for lorcan The sudden appearance of the imposing, panic stricken man shouting 'Aiden!' was the final catalyst. Prince Lorcan of the Southern Isles, despite his arrogance, was clearly adept at navigating the city's dangers. The moment the bandits, now realizing they had two potential aristocratic targets, pivoted to pursue both children, Lorcan grabbed Aiden's wrist.
"Come on, idiot! They'll sell us both to the highest bidder!" Lorcan hissed, yanking Aiden out of the narrow alleyway and into the main street traffic. The two boys, an unlikely pair of well-dressed, miniature noblemen, became a blur in the chaotic marketplace. They darted left and right, weaving between the legs of soldiers, dodging pushcarts laden with goods, and slipping under the thick cloaks of hurried officials. The bandits, heavy footed and frustrated, bellowed curses behind them.
"Stay close to me!" Lorcan commanded, his velvet tunic already smudged with dirt. "I know this area! Follow my shadow!" Aiden, despite the lingering fear, felt a surge of exhilaration. This was a true challenge a real life escape, far more exciting than his arduous training in the cold mountains. The sheer speed, the constant need for quick decisions, and the shared danger instantly forged a strange, competitive bond between the two boys. Aiden started truly enjoying it, his fear replaced by the pure, adrenaline fueled thrill of the chase. He was proving his worth, not to his stern Papa, but to himself.
"Why are we running so much?" Aiden gasped, matching Lorcan's pace perfectly, the small pack on his back surprisingly easy to carry now. "Because they want to use us for leverage against our families, fool!" Lorcan shouted over the din. "My father is important! They want my pearls!" He reached up, touching the elaborate silver pin that held his cloak in place.
"My Papa said I'm a shadow!" Aiden countered fiercely, ducking under the arm of a guard. "Shadows don't get caught!" Their dash took them deeper into the diplomatic sector, an area ironically less chaotic but more dangerous due to the presence of palace staff. As they rounded the corner of a grand spice market, they collided squarely with a woman carrying two large baskets laden with fresh bread and vegetables.
The woman stumbled, her groceries scattering across the stone pavement. She was dressed in the severe, immaculate livery of Kyon's Royal Household one of the prince's personal maids.
"Oh, forgive me, little lords!" the maid exclaimed, flustered, before her eyes focused on Aiden.
The maid gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, completely forgetting the scattered bread. She had never seen the exiled Lord Arion, but she had certainly seen Prince Kyon every single day for years. The resemblance between the young boy and the Prince was not merely strong; it was uncanny. The dark hair, the high cheekbones, the slight upturn of the lip it was a miniature, perfect replica of the Serpent King, right down to the compelling, startlingly amber blue eyes.
She stared, paralyzed by the shock of seeing the supposed bachelor prince's secret, four-year-old child. "Your Highness... is that..." she started, her mind reeling from the immediate realization of the scandal. Lorcan, who had quickly assessed the maid's uniform and her state of shocked paralysis, didn't wait. He didn't know who she was, but he knew she was Palace.
"Run! She's a spy for the older brother!" Lorcan hissed, interpreting the situation through the lens of his own country's complex politics. He grabbed Aiden's hand again, pulling him hard toward a nearby covered archway. They ran away, leaving the stunned maid staring at the empty street and the scattered groceries, the image of the miniature prince burned into her memory.
Meanwhile, Arion had backtracked to the alley where Aiden had last been. His search was a mixture of barely contained panic and furious, focused tracking. He found the trampled earth, the faint scuff marks of hard-soled boots—the bandits. He followed the trail relentlessly, the sight of his son's small boot prints mixed with the criminals' heavier tracks driving him forward.He eventually reached the plaza where the encounter had taken place. He saw the distraught maid kneeling over the scattered bread, her face white with shock, looking frantically up and down the street. Arion recognized the livery instantly: Kyon's House.
He melted into a shop entrance, his muscles coiled with tension. He needed to know what she knew. He watched as the maid finally gathered her spilled groceries, clutching them fiercely. She didn't call the guards; she didn't raise a general alarm. Instead, she spun around and sprinted down the street, not toward the market, but directly toward the heavy stone walls of the Royal Palace.Arion's blood ran cold. The maid had seen something or someone important enough to drop everything and race straight to Kyon. The timeline had just accelerated violently. Kyon would soon know that a child resembling him was loose in the city. The element of surprise was lost.
Arion pulled his hood lower and continued his frantic search, a deep, chilling dread mixing with his fear for Aiden. His son was now on a political clock, and Kyon was about to be alerted to the existence of the one threat he never anticipated.
I have to find him "…" around start walking around softly calling for Aiden.