The Veyra estate loomed above the city like a crown of stone, sunlight glinting off its gilded windows. Aiden did not yet walk its halls, nor did he wish to. Influence, he knew, came first through reputation, opportunity, and subtlety—not brazen entry.
He learned of a small gathering at the estate—a private garden supper for minor merchants and trusted clerks. Lady Selene was to be present, observing the proceedings more than attending herself. Invitations were scarce, but Aiden had no intention of receiving one.
Instead, he planned a shadowed entrance.
Through his network, he learned of a servant named Merek, loyal to none but susceptible to gold and clever flattery. With a silver coin and precise instructions, Merek delivered a note to Lady Selene's steward during the supper, claiming a clever boy from the city's lower markets had prepared an analysis of rare trade opportunities. The note hinted at insight without revealing the messenger.
Curiosity sparked. The steward glanced at the note, then at Selene, who raised an eyebrow. "Who sent this?" she asked softly.
"No name," the steward admitted. "Only… a ghost, apparently."
Aiden's message was brief but brilliant, showing calculated knowledge of market shortages, trade routes, and future profits. It was anonymous, but impossible to ignore.
By the end of the evening, several merchants were whispering to one another, debating the source of the note. Selene herself read it twice, her curiosity piqued.
"He is clever," she murmured, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Not bold, but precise. Not seen, yet influential. Who is this boy?"
Meanwhile, in the slums, Aiden recounted the day to his boys. "Notice this," he said, spreading a few coins across the dirt. "Influence grows without exposure. Reputation spreads without acknowledgment. We make the ghost memorable before they know his face. That is how we climb."
The pendant pulsed warmly against his chest. Aiden did not yet know the extent of the interest he had stirred, nor did he fully understand the danger that came with it. But he knew one thing: the ladder to the hill had begun, and each rung was his to claim.
And in the quiet shadows of the city, the ghost of the slums smiled.
Soon, he would walk among them.