"Huh…?" Cynthia blinked in confusion.
Before she could say another word, Marcus grabbed her wrist with a mischievous gleam in his eye and tugged her along.
A grin tugged at his lips—one of those troublemaking, too-charming-for-its-own-good grins that only ever meant one thing: chaos was coming.
In the span of a few quick steps and hushed laughter, they darted into a narrow alleyway near the city's central square, the cobblestones slick with mist and moonlight. Tucked behind the shadow of a merchant's stall and half-collapsed crates, they crouched low, hidden from passing eyes.
"What are you planning…?" Cynthia asked, voice lowered, pressing a little closer to Marcus as she peeked around the corner. Her shoulder brushed against his chest, her breath visible in the cool air as she followed his gaze.
