Chapter Eleven: Charismatic Devil

I am grateful for the brief rain that followed our arrival to the capital; it washed our trail.

Lucky for Kaisa and me, there seemed to be a night market or some festival at the capital’s heart, so the hope for finding a good deal on the kind of garment that would maintain my anonymity soared.

An hour passed, and not to seem like an airhead, but while I found the cloak, I forgot that Ketria used a different currency system.

So, in essence, I was gifted a coat by a mother who thought I resembled a beggar because of the mud coating my garments. When I tried to tell her that I would repay her, she gave me a pitiful look as if to say, 'oh...you poor dreamer, life is harsh'; so, in a sense, she lost respect for me twice—oh, not twice because I had to borrow fare to head to the mountains afterwards.

The embarrassment coursing through me is palpable, but what makes it worse is the harsh realisation that the Lycan took everything from me; my phone, wallet, passport, clothes...I have nothin