"It's not fair..."
Elysia kicked a pile of trash accumulated in the corner of a stall, watching rotten fruit peels scatter across the ground as she grumbled. Her longbow slapped against her back with every heavy step.
"Your sister will be sad." She mimicked Duncan's voice mentally, biting her lip in anger. It was a low blow. He was the most faithful hound her father ever had, always getting in the way. The old man wasn't just a guard; he acted as the extension of her father's will.
Elysia felt a bitter taste in the back of her throat. Not just because of the meeting, but because of herself — the way she was acting.
"Childish..." she hissed to the void.
She knew very well what she was doing.
Running through the Night Market, breaking things, humiliating third-rate scammers... it was a cry for attention. A ridiculous spectacle to force her father, the great Lord of the City, to look at her — even if only with disapproval.
She wanted him to feel the nuisance of the "exotic" daughter staining the immaculate reputation he maintained among the other nobles.
But in the end, it was useless.
Elysia stopped for a second, closing her eyes. If it weren't for Elara — if it weren't for that fever that never seemed to leave her little sister's fragile body — she would have left already.
She would have left Silver City long ago, riding until she could no longer see this place. She would disappear into the dense forests beyond the mountains and live her life as she saw fit, far from those people. Just her and Elara, free of titles and judgmental looks.
Thinking of her little sister's image, with her thin hair and constant tired gaze, Elysia felt a pang in her chest.
Elara had not inherited her hunter's robustness. Dragging Elara into a fugitive life in the woods, without the infrastructure provided by her father's gold, would be signing her death warrant. Because of this, Elysia never had the heart to leave her behind, surrendered to the care of indifferent servants.
It was truly irritating. Elysia adjusted the strap of her bow, her knuckles white.
"Emergency meeting." As if that were her problem.
She was so submerged in her own rage, imagining the smug faces of the nobles she would have to endure, that the world around her became a blur. She didn't see the man crossing her path.
The impact was dry and firm. Elysia stepped back, her hand going to her bow by pure instinct, a curse already on the tip of her tongue. "Watch where you're..."
She froze.
Before her stood a man who looked strangely out of place. He held a cage, and inside it, a brown chicken stared at her with a completely blank look. His clothes didn't seem to match his burden. For a moment, Elysia's fury was replaced by pure confusion as she stared at the man and the bird.
"You..." Elysia blinked, her voice failing. She didn't know where to start.
The man didn't seem shaken by the bow or her aggressive tone. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, remaining calm. "My deepest apologies, My Lady..." he said in a firm, controlled voice. "I was so focused on reaching my destination that I ignored the path in front of me."
He adjusted the wicker cage under his left arm and, naturally, extended his right hand. "I apologize."
Elysia stared at the open palm. Her instincts screamed caution. After hesitating, she extended her hand, her delicate half-elven fingers closing around his with an expression of pure distrust. "Fine..."
She felt the dry, slightly rough texture of his skin. Something made her squeeze his fingers a bit harder, just to test his resistance. The man's expression changed sharply. "My Lady is a strong woman..." he said with a forced laugh.
Elysia withdrew her hand abruptly, her heart hammering against her chest. Had she used too much force?
"You're lucky," she murmured, shifting her gaze to the cage, trying to ignore what had happened.
The stranger gave a low laugh before taking a wide step to the side, clearing the path with a subtle bow. "It seems you were lost in thought as well. It's a dangerous distraction to walk in a place like this."
"That's none of your business," Elysia retorted coldly, stepping aside to try and pass.
"Agreed. It truly isn't," he said naturally, which disarmed her a bit. "But I have a bad habit of being curious. You looked discontent. Is it the current market situation that bothers you so much?"
Elysia stopped moving, looking at him suspiciously. "Everyone in this city knows what I think about this market. I don't like it, and I don't agree with what happens here. It's no secret."
"Even though your father allows it?" the man asked, tilting his head. His gaze seemed to be assessing her expression with curiosity, making Elysia uncomfortable.
"Precisely because he allows it," she hissed, her bitterness overflowing. "He closes his eyes to crime if it brings silver to the coffers."
The stranger was silent for a moment. "If you break ceramics and humiliate scammers just to get your father's attention, My Lady, you are wasting your time," he said, his voice lower, more serious. "To him, that is just the temperament of a rebellious daughter."
Elysia clenched her jaw. He was right, and that only made her angrier. "And what does a man with a chicken know about getting attention?" Her tone was now hostile. She was tired of a random person talking about her business as if he knew her.
"I know that if you really want to be heard, there are more effective ways than throwing tantrums in the market," the man replied, his gaze fixed on hers.
He seemed to be serious. Despite her anger, Elysia managed to contain her emotions. It wasn't often she had the chance to talk about her problems, especially city issues. The staff were afraid of her father, and Elara, the only person who listened, wasn't appropriate. She didn't want to dump her frustrations onto her little sister.
"Like what?" she asked, curiosity overcoming anger for an instant.
"Like being present where real decisions are made." He gave a half-smile. "If you don't have a voice to make changes, then change the rules."
Elysia stood paralyzed. What was he insinuating? 'Wait...' Her eyes brightened. How had she not thought of this? No one had ever suggested using politics against her own father. She had always hated that room, hated to argue.
"If you want your father to see you, stop being his trouble and start being his adversary," the man continued, his voice calm.
Elysia felt a shiver run down her spine. The idea was dangerous — almost suicidal within her family's rigid laws — but brilliant in its simplicity. "That... that would require me to stop running," she murmured.
"Exactly." The man shrugged, beginning to walk away. "Power is only given to those with the courage to reach out and take it. Everything else is just noise."
Elysia watched him walk toward the crowd. The cage on his arm and the calmness in his steps made him the most enigmatic figure she had ever crossed.
"Wait!" she called. "Why are you telling me this? What do you gain from it?"
The man stopped and looked over his shoulder. The chicken clucked one last time before he answered. "A friendship." He gave a small nod. "By the way, my name is Reynard."
Friendship? The word echoed strangely in her mind. She looked at his back, a knot of distrust in her chest. No one offered "friendship" for free. What did he really want? Access to the manor? Why would a random man bother giving political advice to the Lord's daughter?
Despite her suspicions, Elysia couldn't ignore what he said. If she wanted things to change, she couldn't keep being just the background noise. She squeezed her knuckles, still feeling the heat of his handshake.
Reynard. She stored the name in her mind. She would find out who he was — but for now, she had other problems.
She turned on her heels, no longer grumbling. Duncan was waiting for her near a carriage, his face heavy with impatience, but when he saw Elysia, he smiled gently. "Lady Elysia, are you ready?"
"Yes, Duncan." She replied, climbing into the carriage with an elegance he rarely saw. "Let's go back. I have much to discuss with my father."
"Of course." Duncan signaled the coachman to depart. As the carriage swayed toward the manor, Elysia looked out the window, leaving the Night Market behind.
'Reynard...'