Chapter Seventeen: Echoes of Tyranny and the Dusk Encounter
Edward dismounted his horse in front of a tavern crowded with people in one of London's poorer districts. He entered, hiding his face under his hat, and sat in a dark corner to remain out of sight. He wasn't looking for a drink, but for information.
Amidst the clinking of glasses and the smoke of pipes, he began to pick up the conversations of oppressed merchants. He heard of a mysterious kidnapping phenomenon hitting the outskirts of the city, and worse, he heard the name of the Ravencroft family repeated with hatred on every tongue. This family had seized all of House Ferguson's businesses, and they didn't stop there; they imposed heavy taxes on small merchants and controlled the public markets with an iron fist.
"They are sucking our blood with their high-interest loans," one man whispered bitterly, and another added, "They carry out suspicious activities in the shadows that no one dares to mention, and whoever objects vanishes without a trace."
Edward felt his blood boil; the legacy his ancestors built with justice was now being used as a tool for tyranny and oppression. He left the tavern to breathe fresh air and expel the scent of resentment that filled his chest.
As he walked through London's light fog, he passed a quiet park, and there he saw a scene that broke the intensity of his thoughts. A young girl sat alone on a wooden bench, appearing to be in her youth, wearing simple clothes that hinted at a respectable origin. She was so sad that her shoulders trembled silently, her eyes staring into the void with deep sorrow.
For a moment, Edward forgot his caution and disguise. Driven by curiosity, and perhaps a strange sense of duty, he approached her. He stepped toward her quietly and wondered to himself, "What could break a spirit so deeply at this hour of dusk?" He stood a short distance away and asked in a low, calm voice: "Are you alright, Miss?"