{LEO'S POV}
Heron never slept. Even at dusk, the streets bustled with life. The streets glimmered with oil lamps strung between stone archways, their reflections dancing across puddles left from the evening rain. Vendors still called out beneath striped canopies, their voices layered over the distant hum of a lute and the metallic clang of a blacksmith working late. Perfume from painted courtesans mixed with the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine, weaving together into something intoxicating.
And in the middle of all that noise and motion, I led Aurora through the crowded streets.
Every now and then, I turned my head to check if she was keeping up, and every single time, I caught her already looking at me.
She'd whip her gaze away immediately, pretending to study a passing merchant or the streetlights. But the pink that rushed to her cheeks betrayed her every time, and I couldn't help the small smirk tugging at my lips.
