A fateful encounter in the shadows

A Fateful Encounter in the Shadows

Amelia's pulse quickened as she stepped further into the dimly lit shop, the stale scent of dust and old books lingering in the air. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint creak of the wooden floor beneath her boots. Her instincts screamed at her to turn back, but she couldn't—her mother's life depended on this.

Just as she reached for a nearby shelf, a strong hand suddenly grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Cold steel pressed against her throat, and her breath hitched.

"What the—?!" she gasped, eyes wide.

A low, hushed voice growled near her ear. "Who sent you?"

The world seemed to slow. Her mind raced for an answer, but her body acted first. With a swift movement, she stomped on her assailant's foot, ready to wrest herself free. But before she could, the grip on her loosened.

Silence filled the room.

Then, an awkward cough.

"I… I'm so sorry," the voice, now laced with embarrassment, muttered. "I thought you were someone else."

Amelia turned around, her sharp eyes narrowing at the cloaked figure before her. Now that she could see them properly, she noticed the person was a woman, slightly shorter than herself, with an air of nervousness about her.

The woman hesitated, taking in Amelia's attire, her noble crest subtly embroidered into the fabric. "You… are you a noble?" she asked, voice cautious.

Amelia blinked before nodding. "Y-Yeah?"

To her surprise, the woman's face drained of color. In a flurry of movement, she dropped to her knees, bowing her head repeatedly.

"Please don't kill me, Miss!" she pleaded, panic evident in her tone. "I swear, I really thought you were someone else!"

Amelia's mouth fell open. "H-Hey, calm down! It's okay!"

The woman kept bowing. "Please spare my life! I won't make this mistake again!"

Amelia sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm not going to kill you." She softened her voice. "You don't need to be afraid."

The woman hesitated, peeking up at her. "A-Are you sure?"

"Yes." Amelia offered a small smile.

For a second, the woman seemed dazed. Then, in a hushed whisper, she mumbled, "Woah… so cute."

Amelia's brow twitched. "Excuse me?"

The woman quickly straightened, clearing her throat. "A-Ah, nothing!" She fiddled with the edge of her cloak, shifting awkwardly.

Amelia tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What's your name?"

"M-Me?" The woman pointed at herself, eyes wide.

"Yeah, you."

A deep pause. Then, in a barely audible voice, "Mayle."

Amelia smiled, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, Mayle."

Mayle hesitated before hesitantly shaking Amelia's hand. "N-Nice to meet you too, Miss…?"

"Amelia."

The woman stiffened. "Amelia… Florian?"

Amelia nodded. "Yeah."

Mayle took an involuntary step back, a flicker of fear crossing her face. "Florian…?" she whispered under her breath.

Amelia sighed inwardly. She was used to this reaction. Being a Florian meant power, status—and a less-than-perfect reputation.

(They probably think I'm a spoiled brat.)

Mayle's mind was spinning. (Why is someone like her here? Is she looking for trouble? Or… is she here to kill me?!)

(Oh no. I don't wanna die!)

Judging by the sheer panic in Mayle's eyes, Amelia could already tell what was running through her mind. Of course, she was no stranger to the rumors about her family. Her father and brothers had gained quite a reputation, and while she had always tried to stay out of trouble, being a Florian came with unavoidable assumptions.

Amelia exhaled. "Look, I'm not here to kill you or anything."

Mayle hesitated. "R-Really?"

"Really," Amelia reassured her. "You can relax."

Mayle studied her warily before finally easing up. "If you're not here to hurt me, then… why are you here?"

Amelia took a deep breath. "Actually, I need your help."

Mayle blinked, baffled. "You… need my help?"

"Yes. Can you do me a favor?"

"A f-favor?" Mayle pointed at herself, still not quite believing it. "Of course! It would be my pleasure… but… what do you need?"

Amelia hesitated. Then, in a soft voice, she asked, "Do you know any good doctors around here?"

Mayle frowned. "Hmmm… I do know some street doctors, but I doubt they'd be better than the ones in your noble mansion."

"Then," Amelia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice, "do you know someone who understands magic? Someone… who could cure an illness?"

Mayle's breath hitched. She stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you talking about… black magic?"

Amelia's heart skipped a beat. "So there are people who know that, huh?"

Mayle's eyes darted around nervously. "You shouldn't say things like that so openly! It's forbidden."

"Is it?" Amelia furrowed her brows.

"Yes," Mayle whispered. "No one talks about it here."

Amelia bit her lip, debating her next move. "So… do you know someone?"

Mayle hesitated before nodding slowly. "Um… actually, yes. But…" she sighed, rubbing her arm. "I don't think he'll help you."

Amelia's gaze sharpened. "Why not?"

"He… hates when people approach him. And he hates nobles even more."

Amelia crossed her arms. "Is that so?"

Mayle nodded. "I really don't think it's possible, but…" She swallowed hard. "I'll give you his name anyway."

Amelia straightened. "Please."

A moment passed before Mayle murmured, "His name is… Matt Haizen."

Amelia's breath caught. "Matt Haizen?" She had heard that name before. Isn't he—?

Before she could complete her thought, a loud bang echoed from the door.

Both of them froze.

Mayle's eyes widened. "Are they here?" she whispered, panic setting in.

Amelia's grip tightened.

(This is not good.)

Mayle gulped.

The room fell into silence, tension thick in the air.

And then—

Another loud bang.