The summer sun dipped low over the hill, gilding the Veyra estate in gold and amber. A minor celebration was underway in one of the courtyards—a gathering of merchants, stewards, and a few minor nobles, with Lady Selene in attendance. Invitations were limited, but Aiden did not require one.
Through careful planning, he arrived as a courier, delivering a small set of rare goods procured through his network in the slums. His boys stayed hidden nearby, ready to intervene if necessary, but Aiden had no intention of revealing more than needed.
He carried himself with the quiet confidence of one who knew the stakes. Eyes sharp, mind sharper, he delivered the parcels to the steward, ensuring each note and receipt was flawless. Attention to detail was his currency.
From the corner of his vision, he saw her: Lady Selene, graceful and poised, observing the event with an unreadable expression. She was not yet aware of him, but he noticed the subtle glance she gave when the steward read aloud the origin of the goods—the streets of the slums, the clever network behind them.
Aiden allowed himself a small, controlled smile. Timing, discretion, and intelligence were his weapons tonight. He did not bow excessively, nor did he draw attention to himself unnecessarily. Instead, he lingered just long enough to answer questions, correct errors, and demonstrate capability.
One of her attendants muttered something under their breath, and Lady Selene's gaze flicked toward Aiden. For a heartbeat, their eyes met. Calm, calculating, and sharp, his expression held hers—not in boldness, but in subtle recognition.
"You manage these deliveries yourself?" she asked softly, curiosity laced in her tone.
"I ensure they reach their destination intact, my lady," Aiden replied, voice steady. "Details are what make the difference between success and failure."
She studied him a moment longer, then inclined her head slightly, a small gesture of acknowledgment. In that instant, a connection was made—not of friendship, not of trust, but of awareness. She now knew the ghost existed, and that he was clever, disciplined, and cautious.
Afterwards, Aiden returned to the slums, his boys gathering around him. "Did you see?" one whispered.
"Yes," Aiden said, placing a hand on the pendant at his chest. "She noticed. Not fully, not yet. But it is enough. The first glance is always the most important. Now the game begins."
The slums were his domain, but the hill had just become a part of his map. And the ghost—no longer just surviving—was learning to walk among giants.