The streets were quieter now as Isadora returned toward D'Amaro Manor, the weight of the boy's message clinging to her thoughts like mist. She wrapped her shawl tighter, feeling eyes on her — though she couldn't tell from where.
Then it happened.
A figure slipped from a narrow alley, his steps silent, his gaze fixed on Isadora as she passed. He reached for something beneath his cloak — his intention clear.
But before he could step closer, a shadow dropped from the rooftop above.
A hand clamped over the would-be attacker's mouth, yanking him back into the alley before he could make a sound. Another figure who'd been tailing Isadora from the opposite side of the road turned to react — only to be seized by a second cloaked man.
Both spies were swiftly restrained and dragged deeper into the shadows without a struggle.
Isadora paused in her steps, a strange prickle racing up her spine. She glanced around, uneasy.
"What the hell…" she murmured to herself.
