The sun dipped low over Drosmere, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets. Aiden had spent the day quietly observing the Veyra circle from a distance, noting the comings and goings of servants, merchants, and minor nobles. Every detail, no matter how small, was another thread in the web he was weaving.
Opportunity came unexpectedly.
A carriage carrying Lady Selene's steward had tipped its load of goods near the market square. A few sacks of rare spices spilled onto the street, scattering into the mud. Servants scrambled, and merchants rushed forward to collect their own share, but one small sack rolled into a gutter, disappearing in the muck.
Aiden acted.
With the swiftness of shadows, he retrieved the sack, brushing the mud away carefully. A few onlookers noticed, but he moved as if it were nothing. A whisper of courtesy, a slight bow to the steward when he returned it, and the matter seemed resolved.
But one pair of eyes had lingered. Lady Selene had been passing through the market in disguise, accompanied by two attendants. From the carriage window, she had watched the boy bend low, retrieve the lost sack, and correct the problem with quiet authority. Something about his calm, precise movements, and the subtle way he commanded attention without raising his voice, held her gaze.
The steward noticed the look and leaned closer. "My lady, that boy—he acts as if he owns the street. Yet he is no lord, no merchant of note. Who is he?"
Selene's lips curved slightly. "I do not know. But I intend to find out."
Aiden, unaware of her observation, returned to the slums that evening with the sack tucked safely in his storage. The boys crowded around, eager for details.
"Did anyone see?" one asked.
"Perhaps," Aiden replied, eyes on the pendant. "But seeing is not understanding. You do not notice everything you look at. That is the difference between being noticed and being remembered."
The pendant pulsed softly, as if affirming his thought.
A new game had begun.
Aiden now had proof that even the hill—the world above—had begun to acknowledge him. He did not yet step into it fully. He would wait, observe, and plan. Every move had to count. Every word, every glance, every action a carefully calculated piece of influence.
The ghost had become more than rumor. He had become a presence, subtle but undeniable, in the eyes of the most powerful family in the city.
And soon, Lady Selene would learn that shadows could move in ways even the brightest halls could not ignore.