The two weaved through the crowds and seemed extraordinarily unremarkable. Since she had demanded to be put down earlier, he held his daughter's hand as she walked beside him. She looked about five or six and even though her face was obscured underneath her hood, it could be seen that she was a pretty child. The rain drizzled on the city streets and the citizens hurried on their way, all of them huddling under their cloaks.

“Papa” She asked, “will Kraio be alight? He looked so pale.”

He turned to her, picked her up, and placed her on his hip. “Nati, your brother will be perfectly fine as long as we finish our task. Now do you remember what I told you about being in the city?”

She nodded solemnly and whispered, “In the city we have to be like spies and spies have to be sneaky and silent.” He kissed her cheek and nodded.

They stepped up to the Apothecaries’ window, grateful for the awning’s shelter from the rain. With his back turned to Natiselle, Erion began describing Kraiotan’s symptoms to the little man inside. Natiselle took this time to watch all of the people go by. This was nothing like the main street in Holvim, They were moving so urgently, everyone here looked as if they had very important places to be. The mix of different people baffled young Natiselle, the range in clothes – from laborers worn rags, full of patches to the fine garments of important looking ladies under big umbrellas.

Natiselle was especially captivated by a sleek carriage that rolled to a stop just in front of the apothecary. It was black and covered in ornate gold filigree, and, it was hard to tell, but it seemed as if it was also covered in emeralds. The door swung open with abandon and Natiselle could hear the shrill sound of a woman scolding someone. A boy around her age appeared in the door, his face turned to the woman inside. He must have been nervous, for not two seconds passed before the trinket the boy was fiddling with slipped from his fingers.

She watched as the pretty little box tumbled down the steps of the carriage and rolled to her feet. She bent down to pick it up when she noticed how frantic the boy looked as he jumped out of the carriage. As she stood up and held out the box to him, her hood slipped off and shiny black curls bounced around her face. She squinted at him. Little Strisen had never seen a face so sweet. He stood there dumbfounded before he noticed the box and snatched it from her fingers.

“Thanks,” He said hastily, realizing that his nanny would scold him if she saw.

Usually, Natiselle would have said something snarky in the way that only children can. But, she was too stunned by how closely this boy resembled Kraiotan, almost exactly except for the color of his hair. Her mouth fell into a little “o” and she would have said something if Erion had not whisked her up into his arms. With the ease befitting spymaster, he slipped into the crowd.

Strisen tried to see where the bearded man and the little girl went. But in that moment the clouds decided to retreat and with the sun in his eyes, she was gone. “Come Strisen. Stop being naughty, we have to go to your lessons.” His nanny chided as she steered him in the opposite direction.

“Papa, who was that?” Natiselle asked Erion, whispering shakily into his ear. He reached over and pulled her hood up.

“Who are you talking about?” He asked her, the pit of his stomach sinking as he thought of how this would traumatize her.

“The boy. The one who looked like Kraio. With the white hair.” At Erion’s silence, Natiselle began to panic. “Papa don’t say that, you’re scaring me.” He stayed mum for a beat. “Nati, darling, there was no boy.”

She almost kicked him with her little legs. “Papa, he was there! He had a little box!”

“How much did he look like Kraio?” He asked her, hating himself every step of the way.

“Just like him,” she whispered as wrapped her little arms around Erion, “but he had white hair, just like old lady Camran.” She felt Erion stiffen and she grew a little louder in her fright. “Papa! What are you not saying?”

“Shh, quiet my little spy.” He took a breath and wondered how dearly he would pay for this in the future. “It just means that we need to get back to Kraio faster. We have what we need, I know I promised you I would take you to see the fountains, is it all right it we come back another day?” Little Natiselle burst into tears.

“Yes Papa! I want to go back now! I know that I fight with him all the time but I don’t mean it. I – I, I – don’t want to see the Kraio ghost again.” She was close to a full on wail.

He put a protective hand on her back, “We will get there in time. Don’t worry.”

((On the road))
“Maybe don’t tell Kraio you saw his spirit. I think he’s been through enough, wouldn’t you say?” Erion asked Natiselle and she gave him a very serious nod.
((After three day’s ride they finally arrive home, to be written later))

When they did eventually get back to the house, Natiselle ran straight to Kraiotan’s bedside and threw herself on top of him, causing him to cough in surprise. She hugged him with all of her little might and stammered “D-don’t ever do that again. You’re not allowed to be sick anymore,” she hiccuped, “who will I play with?”

Kraio, confused and very feverish, patted her little head and wheezed, “Get off me fatty, I can’t breathe.”

She leapt off him and whipped her eyes with her fists. “You get to be mean just because you’re almost dead.”