Elowen's POV:
Morning light filters through the tall windows long before the palace stirs to life.
I wake earlier than usual.
Sleep had come in pieces, broken by the same thoughts returning again and again—the alley, the men, the terrified girl, and the word that refuses to leave my mind.
Shipments.
I sit at the small writing desk near the window. The unfinished letter to my father still rests where I left it the night before, the ink dried beside the final line.
For several moments, I simply stare at the page.
The familiar steadiness of writing to him feels strangely comforting. At home, letters were simple things. Updates about harvests, weather, and my sister's stories.
Here, every word feels heavier.
After rereading the letter, I fold the paper carefully and seal it with wax. The Evermere crest presses cleanly into the surface.
A quiet knock sounds at the door.
"Enter."
One of the palace servants steps inside. "My lady?"
"Would you see that this letter is sent with the next courier leaving the palace?", I said.
"Of course."
For a moment, I watch the door close.
The letter feels strangely final once it leaves my hands.
As though something has shifted.
I move to the wardrobe and select a simpler dress than usual—soft grey with minimal embroidery. Something that would not draw attention beyond the palace walls.
I braid my hair loosely and pin it back. Nothing elaborate. Nothing memorable.
If I am going to ask questions today, it would be better if no one remembers my face.
The carriage that carries the ladies of the selection to the market is smaller today.
Selene nearly bounces in her seat.
"I want to see the masks again," she declares happily.
"You already chose one," Hailey points out.
"Yes, but I want to admire it."
Hailey sighs.
I watch the city pass outside the carriage window.
Morning markets are quieter than the afternoon ones. Merchants are still arranging their stalls, and the crowds are thinner.
Perfect.
When we arrive, Selene and Hailey drift toward the fabric shops almost immediately.
"Elowen?" Selene asks.
"I think I'll walk a little further down the street first."
"Don't disappear into another alley," Hailey says dryly.
"I'll try to resist the temptation."
Selene laughs and waves me off.
"I'll find you later!"
They disappear into the dressmaker's shop.
I turn the opposite direction.
The deeper sections of the market are already beginning to stir with activity.
Fishmongers shout their prices near the river road. Bakers pull trays of bread from ovens, filling the air with the warm scent of flour and honey.
I move slowly through the streets, listening more than speaking.
Watching.
The alley from yesterday appears soon enough.
In daylight, it looks smaller.
Less threatening.
Just another narrow passage between two stone buildings.
I step inside.
The shadows remain, though the morning sun cuts across the far wall.
The crates are still stacked where they were before.
But the men are gone.
Of course they are.
I move deeper anyway.
Near the back of the alley, something catches my attention.
Footprints in the dust.
They lead out toward a narrower passage behind the buildings.
I follow it.
The path twists through the backs of warehouses and storage buildings until the market noise fades behind me.
Soon, the air changes.
Cooler.
Damper.
The faint smell of river water drifts through the streets.
The river district.
I slow my pace.
The buildings here are older. Their walls lean slightly with age, and laundry lines stretch between windows overhead.
Fewer nobles wander these streets.
Which makes my presence far more noticeable.
A woman selling vegetables glances at me curiously as I pass.
Finally, I stop near a small bakery.
A boy is sweeping the front step.
"Excuse me," I say gently.
He looks up.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Do many children live in this part of the district?"
He shrugs.
"Lots."
"Have any gone missing recently?"
His sweeping stops.
For a moment he says nothing.
Then he lowers his voice.
"People say some have."
My pulse quickens.
"How many?"
He shakes his head.
"I don't know."
"Do the city guards know?"
Another pause.
"They don't come here much."
Of course they don't.
"Have you seen any strange men around the area?"
The boy glances up and down the street before answering.
"Sometimes."
"What kind of men?"
He hesitates.
Then he says quietly,
"The kind who watch too much."
A chill runs down my spine.
"Do you know where they go?"
The boy shakes his head again.
"But they talk to a man with a silver ring."
My breath catches.
A silver ring.
Another piece of the puzzle.
"Thank you," I say softly.
He nods and returns to sweeping, though I can feel his curious eyes watching me as I walk away.
I step back toward the narrow street leading to the market.
My thoughts are already racing.
Children are disappearing from the river district.
Men are searching the markets for more.
And somewhere in the city, a man with a silver ring is directing them.
Three nights before the masquerade.
Three nights before whatever they are planning is finished.
I glance back once more at the quiet river street.
This is only the beginning.
And if I am going to stop it…
I will need to find that man.