Catherine sighed softly and asked her “husband” to wait outside while she finished the deal personally. Instantly understanding her mistress’s intentions, Cassia took the children by the hands and led them out of the shop.

  Left alone with the shopkeeper, Catherine held his gaze for a moment and then slowly walked toward the counter. Her steps were smooth, those of a true aristocrat, and a gentle, almost tender smile played on her lips. Yet deep within her blue eyes lurked something unsettling.

  “Tell me, sir, what do you think of my children’s choice?”

  The shopkeeper did not notice any hidden meaning in Catherine’s words. The question seemed ordinary to him, as local families often brought their children into his shop and frequently asked for his advice before making a purchase. Clearing his throat, he replied readily:

  “Khmm, the boy’s choice is obvious. What youngster hasn’t dreamed of becoming a legendary swordsman whose name will be known across the world? That’s neither good nor bad—the only question is his determination to train.

  As for the girl… hmm. Her choice is less straightforward. Chakrams are effective at range, but they are treacherous. Difficult to master, easy to injure yourself with. If she fails to grasp the basics, they’ll bring more harm than benefit.”

  “Your analysis is quite accurate,” Catherine replied, already standing at the counter. “But I’m not interested in the weapons. What is your opinion of my children’s talents? I’m sure you have a trained eye…”

  “Madam, they are undoubtedly gifted,” he said, an encouraging smile appearing on his face. “A bright future awaits them.”

  The shopkeeper was not among those who knew the real truth. In his eyes, everything looked exceedingly simple: the boy was talented, the state would take him under its wing, and he—a humble shopkeeper—would receive a reward for a fortunate recommendation.

  He did not dare to share these thoughts with his customer, as he was not confident in his own conclusions. Who knew—what if she placed too much hope in them, only to end up disappointed?

  Catherine nodded and, as if in passing, said:

  “I wonder, what kind of reward does Special Institution No. 1 offer for a candidate for the Specialists?”

  The shopkeeper faltered for a second:

  “Um, madam, what are you talking ab—?”

  She did not let him finish. With a single swift motion, she grabbed him by the hair and forced his head back. Their gazes met. Her expression remained calm, almost gentle, yet a mysterious light ignited in her blue eyes.

  “What are you—?!” the shopkeeper tried to scream, but his mouth was instantly stuffed with a rag.

  “Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice. Only my voice.”

  A crystal vial appeared in Catherine’s hand, inside it glimmered a drop of thick crimson blood. The blood pulsed faintly, as if it were alive, following a will of its own.

  She took a deep breath and pierced her finger with her nail. A thin scarlet drop of her own blood fell into the vial, instantly dissolving into the foreign essence.

  Catherine traced the vial across his forehead, leaving a simple rune on his skin. The blood, mixed with her own power, flared for a brief instant and was drawn inward through his pores.

  The man’s eyes glazed over, his pupils constricted and then expanded again. The pendant with the vial was already swaying like a pendulum, yet the shopkeeper stared without blinking into Catherine’s blue eyes.

  “Forget… what you saw. Forget what you knew,” she intoned in a monotone voice. Her tone was soft yet inescapable, like an order that could not be resisted.

  The shopkeeper swayed, his shoulders slackened, and the light in his eyes faded completely.

  “Today, five people came into the shop,” Catherine continued, placing the words directly into his mind. “They briefly looked over the weapons. The woman ordered a gladius and chakrams for four-year-old children. She paid. You lost the money on the way to dinner and covered the loss out of your own pocket. After that, you plan to deliver the order to the ‘Three Geese’ tavern yourself. Right now, you are going to the blacksmith—to negotiate a discount.”

  She stepped back and exhaled. The ritual was complete, the suggestion activated. The man’s memory had been rewritten, and now he would believe this story himself. The precious drop of vampiric blood was gone, but Catherine felt no regret.

  Killing the shopkeeper would have been easier, but a kind woman saw no need for it. He was not a bad person—merely an executor of someone else’s rules. Besides, a corpse would have drawn far more attention.

  She clapped her hands, releasing a flash of light, and the shopkeeper flinched as if waking from a doze.

  “All the best to you, madam, it’s a pleasure doing business with you!” he called politely after her.

  Catherine smiled as she stepped out the door. Soon, she spotted her companions in the crowd and firmly took the children by the hands. Under Clyde’s lead, they headed toward the tavern.

  The day turned out to be surprisingly calm—a rare respite that allowed twins to relax and at least briefly take their minds off things. But tomorrow the journey would continue, and they would need their strength more than ever.

  Rumors of the “Harbinger of Night” had already begun to spread. Who knew how soon the Magical Empire would acquire their portraits? Before long, the faces of the fugitives could appear on the walls of every tavern, in every alleyway. Catherine had done everything to disguise the group, yet she understood: a slight resemblance in features, an overly telling match in numbers, or a careless word from the children could give away their true identities.

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  When it came to her family’s safety, she never acted half-heartedly. And as long as her worst forebodings had not yet become reality, Catherine was determined to put as much distance as possible between them and danger.

  The travelers approached a three-story wooden building bearing the sign “Three Geese” and disappeared behind its doors.

  Inside, life was in full swing. The air was thick with the smells of ale, roasted meat, and sweat. A motley crowd filled the entire room. Their loud laughter, conversations, and arguments formed a pleasant cacophony of noise. It was clearly a place where merchants and adventurers came to unwind after a hard day.

  In one corner of the hall, a lively group was playing dice. On the stage, a half-drunk bard was trying to earn enough for a visit to the brothel, strumming his lute. A busty waitress carried drinks and dishes, constantly jumping as someone pinched her ample backside.

  Taking a free table, the group ordered food and drinks. Magical ale—for the adults, and orange juice—for the children. Half-drunk patrons kept glancing at Catherine, but upon noticing the dangerous gleam in the eyes of the neko man, they preferred to look away and keep silent.

  While eating, the twins mostly listened to the bard. He sang of the adventures of brave mercenaries who challenged monsters, praising friendship and brotherhood. The mother and the servant listened closely to the surrounding conversations, catching any useful information.

  Only half an hour passed, yet the bard’s tongue was already starting to tangle. His lousy manner of playing drew disapproving whistles from the crowd.

  “Quiet… Quiet, damn it!” he shouted at the crowd. “Yes, I’m drunk… Drunk not on wine, but on this beauty. Every melody I know is only for her. I’ve forgotten the words, but the tune still plays!”

  The crowd laughed in approval. Alcohol and lust made the patrons bolder, their behavior growing more brazen. Thoroughly drunk, many of them had gained an immunity to Cassia’s murderous intent.

  At a nearby table, three men were arguing animatedly.

  “I’m telling you, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!”

  “No! My daughter is more beautiful!”

  “What’s the difference? After the third mug, all women turn into goddesses.”

  The first man—the youngest of the three—couldn’t take his companions’ jabs any longer. Swaying, he headed toward the table where the family was having dinner. Plopping down beside them, he looked Catherine in the eyes and said, trying to keep his voice steady:

  “And you… are you definitely real? Because everyone else here looks blurry.”

  Although Catherine was irritated by his behavior, she still decided to answer:

  “Perhaps your vision is just doubling?”

  The drunken man, about twenty years old, smirked, as if the beauty’s reply was exactly what he had expected, and without thinking blurted out:

  “Even if it were tripling, I’d still be looking only at you.”

  Cassia was already about to slap the insolent fool. She was playing the role of the fiancé, and if she let his actions go unanswered, who knew how many more lecherous louts would keep pestering her mistress. Unfortunately, the brave soul suddenly collapsed onto the floor and began to snore.

  The maid’s rage had nowhere left to go.

  To avoid trouble, the four travelers said their goodbyes to Clyde and went to rest. Climbing the creaking wooden stairs, the family reached the top floor.

  The room they had rented seemed truly wonderful to them. It is easy to please people who have spent several weeks sleeping wherever they could. The enormous double bed in the center of the room was especially impressive, practically beckoning them into its embrace.

  Needing no orders, the twins rushed straight for the bed. Their heads had barely touched the pillows when they fell into blissful sleep. Even in unconsciousness, they pressed close to one another, like two adorable kittens.

  Catherine could not suppress a faint smile at the sight of how close brother and sister were. After telling the servant about the plans for tomorrow, she carefully lay down beside them, yet her eyes remained open. Sleep was a luxury she could not afford. Danger was still near, and her responsibility for the children would not allow her to relax.

  Meanwhile, Cassia settled on the floor by the door, legs crossed in a lotus pose. She seemed to be meditating, restoring her strength after the long journey. However, she kept part of her mind clear to watch the perimeter. Her ears twitched from time to time, and her hand tightly gripped the hilt of a dagger.

  When the sun’s rays were only just beginning to peek over the horizon, and the birds had not yet started their welcoming song, there was a knock on the door of the room.

  “Delivery of goods,” a voice sounded from outside.

  Peeking out, Catherine spotted the dealer in healing materials. He had successfully acquired the saliva of a three-hundred-year-old wyvern and greeted his benefactor with a carefree smile. After receiving the promised payment along with generous tips, the greedy merchant’s grin threatened to split his face in two.

  “Mrs. Ashfort, please forgive me for disturbing you so early. But you must understand—your presence illuminates all of Stormdale. One can no longer tell day from night. I fear that if you remain in our city, the citizens will be completely unable to sleep,” the vendor had already begun his serenade before he was promptly shown the door.

  When Cassia returned with the rented carriage and horses, Catherine, Clyde, and the children were already ready to depart, waiting at the entrance to the tavern. Before them stood an old but sturdy wagon, built from solid wood. It was loaded with three large chests filled with supplies.

  Two bay mares harnessed to the wagon were prepared for a long journey. Even the children, despite their limited experience, could recognize them as magical animals. Though they had neither horns nor wings, they were one and a half times larger than ordinary horses. Their manes gleamed in the sunlight like a golden waterfall, and their broad chests and powerful legs could have put even a wild bear to shame with their untamed strength. They looked especially striking beside the small donkey that had accompanied the group over the past few days.

  “Mom, can I take Jack with us?” Grace asked in a plaintive voice, pointing at the little animal.

  “No, sweetheart, Jack has to stay with Clyde,” Catherine replied reluctantly, watching tears well up in the girl’s eyes.

  “But Mom…”

  “Dear, this isn’t up for discussion. Jack has to go back. He has a home where he’s expected. Isn’t that right, Clyde?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Jack is very much awaited in the village. He really can’t go with you,” Clyde said, clearly forced to play the villain under Cassia’s watchful gaze.

  Realizing the inevitability of parting, the girl approached the donkey and wrapped her arms around its neck as if it were an old battle companion. Somehow, a solemn farewell had settled over them. They stared at each other for a full two minutes, as if recalling days of endless glory. Their eyes reflected the lost feelings of shared freedom, equality, and camaraderie.

  Wanting to break the almost comically intense moment of farewell, which seemed only to grow, Clyde cleared his throat.

  “Mrs. Ashfort, here are the documents. You can’t imagine how much effort it took to get them processed so quickly.”

  “Thank you, Clyde, you’ve been a great help. Any difficulties?” Catherine asked.

  “No, none at all. It’s just that lately the authorities have been demanding very detailed reports for every person entering Danmur. Seems it has something to do with a prophecy or some other nonsense,” Clyde complained casually.

  At his words, the dark-haired boy with cat ears standing slightly apart from Grace visibly tensed. It seemed that the words “prophecy,” “darkness,” and “god” acted like a switch, plunging him into a state of deep anxiety and endless fear.

  Grey tried to hide by every possible means. He did not want to panic. He had repeated to himself countless times that his mother was near, yet all his efforts seemed useless against those three words.

  A gentle voice forcibly pulled him out of his panic, instructing them to get into the carriage. Soon came the sound of hooves and the creak of wheels. The boy did not notice how he ended up kneeling at his mother’s side. Sitting in her warm embrace, he watched as the city’s silhouette gradually shrank behind them.