Amelia's footsteps quickened the moment she left the manor.
Like a whisper on the wind, she disappeared from the estate before anyone even realized she was gone.
The guards, trained and alert, failed to notice her slip through the maze of blind spots she had memorized over the years.
She didn't wear the colors of House Everhart tonight—no regal embroidery or identifying crests. Just a simple, weathered cloak that concealed her form from head to toe.
She blended seamlessly into the night, making her way toward the heart of the Everhart domain.
The capital of Region-1 was the oldest and most densely populated town under their jurisdiction—a place teeming with both prosperity and history.
Cobblestone streets wound through colorful merchant stalls and artisan shops, their wares illuminated by warm lanternlight.
The smells of fresh bread, spices, and roasted meats mingled in the air, and the laughter of children echoed faintly through the alleys.
It was peaceful.
