Rain returned to Aetherion before sunset, falling in thin streams that slid down rooftops and turned the lower districts into shallow rivers of mud. The capital's grandeur faded the deeper one traveled, stone towers gave way to leaning houses, cracked steps, and winding alleys that twisted like veins through the city's heart.
This was where the Hollow Prince's envoys had been seen.
And this was where Selene now walked.
Her cloak was pulled low, shadowing her face. Kael walked beside her, boots splashing through puddles, his hand never far from the hilt at his hip. A small escort followed at a discreet distance, dressed in plain soldier garb rather than royal uniforms.
"Are you certain this is wise?" Kael murmured.
"No," Selene replied. "But it's necessary."
Lucian had wanted to come himself, but she had denied him. The king in the lower districts would draw far too much attention, and the people here trusted symbols long before crowns.
