"That's mine!" the woman said, pulling the satchel closer. Something inside shifted, and a soft squeaking sound escaped from within.

  "You expect us to believe that?" one of the men said. "A vagrant like you owning a Scallia wombat? Those cost more than you'd see in a lifetime."

  "I didn't steal it," she insisted, her voice steady despite being backed against the car. "He's mine."

  The second man reached for the satchel. "Then you won't mind if we verify that. Show us your ownership papers."

  "I don't need to show you anything," she said, turning her body to shield the bag. Another squeak came from inside, followed by what sounded like tiny scratching.

  "Thief!" the first man called out loudly, clearly trying to draw attention. "Someone stop this woman!"

  Heron's feet moved before his mind caught up.

  "Is there a problem?" Heron asked.

  The two men turned. One looked Heron up and down, taking in the adventurer's gear. "This vagrant stole an exotic animal. We're retrieving stolen property."

  "I told you, he's mine!" the woman said, her hood slipping slightly. For a brief moment, Heron glimpsed dark hair with an unusual red streak before she quickly pulled the hood back up.

  "Then prove it," the second man said, reaching for the satchel again.

  Heron caught his wrist. "She said it's hers. You should at least show some courtesy towards a lady."

  "Adventurer boy, I thought you were here to help us, but if you're going to be a nuisance, you can go hang with her." The man's voice rose. "Help! We're trying to apprehend a thief, but we're being attacked by her partner in crime!"

  "What seems to be the problem here?" Almir's deep voice cut through the commotion as he stepped forward, positioning himself behind the two men.

  "Hopefully, you are more helpful, sir,” the man said, trying to be polite, clearly intimidated by Almir’s size. “This boy is cosplaying as an adventurer, and he is trying to attack us."

  "Oh, I highly doubt it. The adventurer boy is actually the son of a wealthy merchant," Almir said calmly. "He's dressed like an adventurer so as not to draw attention. Would you like to cause an international incident?"

  Heron's mind raced, but he kept his expression neutral.

  "Perhaps you'd like to see proof?" Almir continued, his eyes meeting Heron's meaningfully.

  Taking the cue, Heron reached into his shirt and pulled out his pendant, just enough for the men to glimpse the craftsmanship before tucking it away again.

  The first man's face paled slightly. "I... I apologize, sir. But it still doesn't change the fact that the woman stole a precious item."

  "No, I wasn't—" the woman started, but Heron cut her off.

  "She's also undercover. She was keeping the pet for me to present to a noble who has become a patron for our business, as a sign of appreciation."

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  The second man's eyes narrowed. "She didn't seem to know you, from the looks of things."

  "She got flustered because of your accusation. Isn't that right... um, Sylvia?" Heron asked, hoping she'd play along.

  There was a brief. Then: "Yes... yes, my lord. I am sorry for my insolence."

  Thank the Creators, she's playing along, Heron thought.

  "Well then, you shouldn't sneak about like this," the first man said stiffly, "If she were dressed accordingly, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He shallowly bowed, more as a forceful gesture than him wanting to. "Good day to you both."

  He turned and dragged the other man away from the carts towards the exit. The crowd that had gathered began to disperse, the excitement over.

  The woman stared at Heron, her expression unreadable beneath the hood. The wombat poked its head out again and squeaked.

  "That was quick thinking," May said quietly, appearing at Heron's side.

  The boarding whistle blew, a sharp sound that cut through the awkward silence.

  "I should leave," the woman said quickly. She nodded to Heron, that same strangely formal gesture. "Thank you. For your help."

  She turned to go, but Almir stepped into her path.

  "And where do you think you're going?" Almir asked. "Just because we stopped those two men doesn't mean they weren't right. Having that creature is highly unlikely for anyone who's not high nobility."

  "As I've said, he's mine. Now, please let me pass." The woman's voice carried an edge of authority that seemed at odds with her appearance.

  "Hey, let's take a breather," Heron interjected. "I, for one, believe you, but can you spare some details or proof? Maybe we can even protect you."

  "Heron, look at her clothes. She's probably a peasant who got lucky finding the animal and is trying to sell it," Almir said.

  "Let's not judge her before we hear her out," Heron insisted.

  "I agree with Hikki," May added. "It doesn't hurt to hear her out. If she can't prove it, we can always take her to the authorities."

  The woman's shoulders tensed at that suggestion, but she straightened. "Fine. But not here."

  She glanced around the platform where a few workers still lingered. "Somewhere private."

  "First, let me get my luggage," she added, gesturing toward a small bundle near the passenger car.

  "Don't try anything funny," Almir warned.

  "I won't," the woman said, clearly annoyed.

  She retrieved a worn traveling bag and returned to them. The wombat had settled back into the satchel, only occasionally squeaking.

  "There's a side room in the station," Almir said. "For merchants settling accounts. Should be empty this time of day."

  They walked back into the station building, an odd procession drawing curious glances from the clerk at the counter. Almir led them down a corridor to a plain door, which opened into a small office with a desk and several chairs.

  Before entering, the woman stopped them. "I will only talk with the bandana guy," she said, pointing at Heron.

  "That's not part of the agreement," Almir said.

  "He's your comrade, is he not?" the woman asked. "Then you'll trust him if he vouches for me."

  "It's fine, Almir," Heron said. "I can take care of myself. Please don't worry."

  Almir exchanged a look with May, then nodded reluctantly. "We'll be right outside."

  The woman and Heron entered the room, closing the door behind them.

  She set her bag down but kept the satchel close. She pushed back her hood, revealing her face fully for the first time. Dark hair framed sharp features, and that distinctive red streak fell across her shoulder. Despite the dirt smudges and worn clothing, there was something striking about her, an aura unfitting of the peasant disguise.

  "Show me your sigil again," she said.

  Heron pulled out the pendant, holding it in full view this time.

  She studied it carefully, then seemed to come to a decision. "So you're a Scallian noble. I suppose I'll trust you with my secret since you're hiding yours." Her voice dropped lower. She reached into her own shirt and pulled out a pendant. It was silver, with a book and quill engraved on it. The mark of Divinium nobility.

  "My name is Alessia Veles. And who might you be?"

  "My name is Heron... Bratti," Heron said, the surname leaving his mouth with difficulty.

  It was the first time he'd had to introduce himself by his full name, and anger slowly seeped in as it reminded him of his father.