The carriage stopped immediately on command.

The sudden halt made the wheels creak softly against the dirt road, and the movement inside the carriage stilled at once.

Aire’s fingers trembled slightly where they rested on the door handle.

She pushed the door open before the footman could reach for it. The door gave way under her hand, and cool air rushed in at once, brushing against her face and slipping into her lungs.

The footman stepped forward quickly, his hand extended to assist her down.

Aire did not take it.

She simply stepped down on her own. Her feet met the ground firmly, even if her heartbeat had begun to rise.

Behind her, Mabel stepped out of the carriage, graceful and effortless.

Her movements were smooth, controlled and so precise that it almost felt practiced. Which it was.

Her movements were like she belonged in the position Aire had just stepped into. Like she was the Luna.

Aire did not look at her.

Her attention had already shifted, and got locked with the crowd.

The noise was louder outside the carriage. Voices clashed against each other, harsh, overlapping, and unrestrained.

She stepped forward instinctively, then paused.

Her fingers curled slightly at her side before she turned her head just enough to look at Mabel.

"Do you have any coin?" she asked quietly.

Mabel’s gaze slid toward her. There was something unreadable in her eyes, but she nodded.

Without a word, she reached into the folds of her dress and brought out a small wrap.

She placed it into Aire’s hands.

It was heavier than Aire expected.

Aire blinked.

Her fingers tightened slightly around it as she unfolded the wrap just enough to catch a glimpse.

The coins were a lot. More than she had ever casually held in her hands before.

Her breath paused for just a second.

Then, she remembered Mabel was not just anyone. She was the only daughter of the wealthiest house.

Of course this meant nothing to her.

Aire closed the wrap quickly. Her jaw tightened just slightly. She stepped into the crowd.

"What happened?" She asked, and her voice cut through the air, soft but clear.

No one answered. Not because they didn’t hear her, but because they didn’t care.

Their voices continued over hers, louder, rougher, and drowning her out like she had never spoken at all.

Aire’s steps slowed.

Mabel moved. She stepped forward, positioning herself just slightly ahead of Aire. She cleared her throat.

She cleared it again, and when she did, she spoke, and her voice was no longer soft. It became sharp and intimidating.

"You would all do well to keep shut before your Luna," she said, her gaze sweeping across them. "And answer what she asks."

Silence fell among them immediately. Voices died down, and movements stilled. All eyes rested on her immediately.

The men stepped back slightly, enough to reveal what had been hidden at the center of their circle.

The boy lay on the ground, curled slightly into himself. He looked small. Too small to be mistreated.

His chest rose and fell unevenly, then he coughed. Blood spilled from his lips, staining the dirt beneath him.

Aire’s breath caught.

Her fingers tightened around the wrap of coins.

Behind her, Mabel stepped back. She stood behind Aire, and met her eyes. Then, she nodded.

It was a simple gesture, asking Aire to go on.

Aire swallowed. She smiled softly. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it was there.

She cleared her throat. "What happened here?"

This time, they answered.

"He stole her bread," a man said, his voice rough as he pointed toward a woman beside him.

The woman stepped forward immediately, her hands resting on her hips. "And he should be punished for it," she added sharply.

Aire’s gaze shifted to her.

She smiled again, soft and polite.

The wind brushed lightly against her hair, lifting the strands that had fallen loose. They slipped into her face, across her eyes.

Aire lifted her hand and tucked them behind her ear.

She slowly and carefully stepped forward. She opened the wrap, and the coins gleamed faintly in the light.

She took three, and held them out.

"For your troubles," she said, extending her hand toward the woman. "This is more than enough."

The woman stared at the coins, then at Aire.

However, before she could respond, a voice cut in.

"We do not take orders from a woman."

Aire’s hand stilled. The coins remained extended. She turned her head slowly toward the man who had spoken.

"I am not just a woman," she said. Her voice was still soft. "I am your Luna."

The words settled into the air.

"And right now," she continued, her gaze steady on him, "you will take your hands off this boy... and walk away."

Someone scoffed.

"You’re cursed," another man said from the side.

Aire turned to him.

Her expression did not change.

"Yet," she said quietly, "I have the power to determine your fate right now."

The air shifted subtly but unmistakably. For a second, Aire felt power moving to her head so strong like wind rushing through a pipe.

The wind stirred, rising just slightly around her, brushing past her dress, and lifting the edges of her hair.

It wasn’t strong.

For a brief moment, it moved around, then stilled as quickly as it had come.

Silence followed.

The men shifted, uncertain. They blinked, staring at her with a frown. For some reasons, they stared at her like she was a monster.

One by one, they stepped back with their hands lifted in retreat. The circle broke, and then, they all walked away.

Aire exhaled softly.

Only then realizing she had been holding her breath.

She turned immediately toward the boy. Dropping to her knees beside him without hesitation.

Up close, he looked worse.

Bruises were already forming with blood at the corner of his lips.

His breathing shallow.

Aire’s chest tightened. She reached for his hand gently, careful not to startle him. He would heal, but it might take him an hour or two.

"It’s alright," she said softly. "You’re alright."

He looked at her, fear still lingering in his eyes. His eyes also held confusion and disbelief.

Aire opened the wrap again.

This time, she took a few more coins, more than before, and pressed them gently into his hand.

"For food," she said. "And somewhere safe."

His fingers curled weakly around them.

Aire offered him a small smile. Her smile was soft, and reassuring, glad he accepted her help.

As she did, she felt a presence behind her. The presence was sharp and focused.

Her body stilled.

The feeling was too strong to ignore. Eyes were watching her, not idly or curiously, but intentionally.

Her spine straightened slightly.

Aire turned. Her gaze moved past the thinning crowd, past the movement, and past the noise.

And then, she saw him standing in the shadows. Still, and unmoving. His eyes were gray, cold, and fixed entirely on her.

There was nothing soft in them, just intensity.

Aire’s breath caught.

For a moment, everything else faded.

Then, she blinked and the moment shifted.

"Mabel," she said quietly, not taking her eyes off the spot. "Who’s that?"

Mabel stepped forward slightly, following her line of sight.

She looked. "There’s no one there," she said lightly.

Aire frowned slightly.

Her gaze remained fixed on the space, byt the space was empty now.

"Perhaps," Mabel added with a small smile, "just a curious commoner."

Aire said nothing. Her fingers tightened slightly at her side. And slowly, she turned back. Yet, the feeling lingered.