Clint leaned against the stone bridge that crossed over a calm stream. He placed the bird's cage carefully on the railing beside him and stared at the moving water below. The cool wind brushed against his hair as he exhaled slowly.
"Where did that guy go?" he muttered, glancing around the busy street filled with merchants and townsfolk. A few minutes passed, but the duke still hadn't returned. Clint frowned, pushing himself off the railing. "Tsk. He better not be lost."
He grabbed the cage and began walking through the street, scanning the crowd. The noise of people haggling and horses clopping against the cobblestone filled his ears. Then, far ahead, he finally saw the duke stepping out of a small shop with a few paper bags in his hands.
Clint sighed in relief, about to call out, when something caught his eye—a cloaked figure silently slipping behind the duke.
