Chapter 4 - Chapter 3: The Watchman's Mercy

Ms. Anscalt, her breath catching in her throat, slipped into the narrow silence of the tannery district alley, the constant din of the main thoroughfare fading behind her like a dying wave. Relief washed over her for a fleeting moment, a desperate hope that she had shaken off the prickle of eyes that had followed her through the market."Hold it right there, madam."The voice, crisp and authoritative, shattered the quiet. Ms. Anscalt froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. Three guards in the Dukedom's blue and silver uniform emerged from the deeper shadows ahead, blocking her path. Their steel breastplates gleamed even in the dim light of the alley."A report came in," the lead guard continued, his eyes sharp, fixed on the bulky shape beneath her heavy layers of wool. "A civilian thought they saw you with a suspicious item wrapped up. We'll need you to reveal it."Panic flared within Ms. Anscalt. The guards were closer now, their presence overwhelming. Flash, thankfully, remained asleep, a silent, warm weight against her chest. She kept her hands tucked into her sleeves, her expression hidden behind the linen mask and low hood."There's nothing suspicious here, officer," she said, her voice intentionally low and calm, trying to mimic the reliable tone of an everyday citizen. She resisted the urge to physically shield Flash, knowing any defensive movement would only heighten their suspicion. "This is just an offering I purchased at the market."The lead guard, a tall, imposing man with a strong jaw and a gaze that seemed to pierce her very soul, stepped closer. "An offering for what, pray tell? "The Evangeline Ranch," she replied, the lie flowing surprisingly easily. "I was raised there as a child, and now I have a good life. I just wanted to give back to those who cared for me. A simple act of gratitude."The guard studied her face, searching for any hint of deceit. Ms. Anscalt held his gaze steady, pouring all her concentration into maintaining the carefully constructed glamour that hid her true features. Her genuine tone, the mention of a respected local institution, seemed to resonate with him. The suspicious glint in his eyes softened, though wariness remained.He exchanged a look with his men before returning his attention to her. "We won't question you and your well-offerings, madam. Charity is a virtue, after all. But we do expect that you hold up to your word with this, as you know we are the prestigious guards of this dukedom. Let our reputation be tarnished if it's a lie, and you'll pay with your tears. Have a good day, madam."He turned and strode off, his two men falling in behind him. The crack of their boots on the wet stone echoed off the narrow walls of the alley, fading quickly as they returned to the main street.Ms. Anscalt let out the breath she had been holding, her body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief. She knew that guard. Not personally, but through the common chatter of the town's rumor mill. The name on the lips of every gossip was Arsendich Monaguile. Of course, she wouldn't fall for such a rumor; the actual meaning of having "three names" was the gossip equivalent of saying he's a Grade 3 spellcaster—a powerful mage hiding behind the badge of a city watchman. She had been lucky this time. His innate sense of justice, or perhaps just a lack of concrete evidence, had spared her. But she knew this was only a temporary reprieve. If the guards were now actively looking for anything unusual, she only had two weeks at best to get out of Whimster.She carefully shifted the weight of the infant and adjusted the blanket covering him. It was then she noticed it. The fabric of the blanket, a slightly finer weave than the rest of her belongings, had a faint, almost faded, stitched crest in the corner. The duke's logo. A chill that had nothing to do with the morning air snaked down her spine. Some idiot who was supposed to dispose of the child had kept Flash alive and even left the dukes logo on the blanket draping the infant. Her sin wasn't just taking a baby from a doorstep; it was the fact that he was a fallen noble, a disgrace to the duke's line. Even though Flash was thrown away, having another person see him live and care for him was a whole other, dangerous thing. MS. Anscalt pulled her hood tighter and began to walk again, her steps quickening. The watchful figure across the street, who had observed the entire exchange from the gloom of another alley, shifted position, a faint smile touching their lips as they melted back into the shadows, a silent predator following her trail.