Riley slipped into a manor with ease, cloaked in illusions that warped the vision of anyone who might have spotted him. It was child's play to navigate through the grand halls unnoticed, a trick he'd mastered long ago.
For days, he stayed hidden within the mansion, living off the scraps he could steal from the kitchen—a bit of bread here, a piece of fruit there. No one ever saw him. He was like a ghost among the wealthy, watching them go about their privileged lives...
He hoped if the toymaker was after him, the guards of the manor can serve as a shield, giving him time to escape somewhere else, after all the best place to hide was near the danger... But boredom crept in quickly. Outside, the tension in the city had been rising. Whispers of discontent turned into shouts of protest as food prices soared and the people grew desperate.
