Hilda glanced over her shoulder at him, suspicious at the sight of his crooked smile. "What are you plotting this time?"
"Nothing," Raiden said quickly, schooling his face into innocent confusion.
She gave him a long, skeptical look but said nothing, turning back to the busy road ahead.
Raiden exhaled softly. His pulse steadied, focus sharpening as the magic tingled faintly under his fingertips.
'Alright,' he thought. 'Let's find the right moment.'
Because as much as Miss Hilda thought she was keeping him in line, Raiden Goldheart was already one step ahead—again.
And this time, he wasn't planning to get caught.
The plaza opened up before them, a swirl of noise and color and life.
Vendors shouted over each other, hawking spices, fabrics, roasted nuts, and fruit pies.
The air shimmered with scent — cinnamon, pepper, and warm bread — and laughter rose above the bustle as children darted between stalls with ribbons tied in their hair.
