Chapter 507: A Pleasant Day Out

"Lord Cherion! Over here!"

The loud, cheerful voice cut through the morning chatter of the marketplace as soon as Cherion stepped down from his carriage.

Cherion smoothed the front of his coat, squinting slightly against the bright morning sun as he looked around the busy cobblestone square. Standing near a stone fountain surrounded by flower stalls, Derrick Avery was waving his hand wildly, a bright, friendly grin stretching across his face.

Cherion smiled, walking over to meet him. Behind him, Reiner and Ezek stepped out of the carriage, keeping a respectful distance as they fell into step several paces back. They didn’t hover directly over his shoulder, giving Cherion and Derrick enough space to speak privately while keeping their sharp eyes scanning the crowds for any potential danger.

When Derrick had sent a letter asking for a day out, Cherion had readily agreed. The idea of sitting in a stuffy drawing room over formal tea sounded dreadfully boring after spending the last few days cooped up inside the estate. Walking through the lively market district was far better, it gave him fresh air and a chance to stretch his legs after the endless, restless hours of last night.

"Lord Derrick," Cherion said with a warm chuckle as he reached him, holding out his hand.

"Lord Cherion! I’m so glad you actually replied to my letter," Derrick said eagerly, clasping Cherion’s hand in a firm, enthusiastic handshake. "To be completely honest, I was half-convinced you might burn it!"

"Now why would I do that?" Cherion laughed, pulling his hand back smoothly. "Did you really think I’d burn an invitation from a friend?"

"Ahahaha! Can you blame me?" Derrick rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "I’m still a little haunted by the old days, you know? Back then, you hated social events. If anyone sent you a letter, you’d either ignore it or have your attendants throw it out. But I know you’ve changed a lot since then."

Cherion let out a light, dry laugh, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "Ahahaha... well, people change. I certainly have."

In more ways than you could ever imagine, Cherion added silently in his head. The original Cherion had been an absolute nightmare when it came to socializing, arrogant, cold, and utterly convinced that almost everyone below his station wasn’t worth his time.

"Come on," Derrick said, gesturing down the wide stone street lined with colorful canvas awnings and busy wooden stalls. "Let’s look around! There’s a brilliant artisan market set up near the lower plaza today."

They strolled side-by-side down the crowded thoroughfare, taking in the rich smells of roasted sweet nuts, freshly baked bread, and dried spices wafting from the vendor stalls. Every time Cherion paused to look at a small trinket or carved wooden keepsake, Derrick immediately stepped forward, tossing silver coins onto the counter before Cherion could even reach for the leather pouch at his hip.

"Lord Derrick, please," Cherion said with a sigh, catching Derrick’s forearm as the nobleman paid for a pair of polished glass ornaments. "Let me pay for my own things. You don’t have to cover everything."

"Nonsense!" Derrick chuckled, waving his hand dismissively as he tucked the small paper box into his coat pocket. "I was the one who asked you out today. It would be terrible manners if I let my guest pull out his own coin purse!"

"I’m hardly a guest, Lord Derrick," Cherion replied with a wry smile, though he gave up trying to fight him on it.

As they turned down a slightly quieter avenue leading toward the upper dining district, Derrick glanced back over his shoulder toward Reiner and Ezek, who were casually browsing a nearby fruit stall while keeping their eyes locked on Cherion.

"So..." Derrick began, shifting his tone slightly, "why are your attendant and guide standing so far back? Not that I’m complaining, it’s nice having a private conversation, but usually nobles from grand houses have their guards practically breathing down their necks."

"They’re giving us privacy," Cherion answered simply, glancing back at Reiner with a subtle nod of reassurance. "I asked them not to hover too closely. Did you come alone?"

"Oh, goodness no!" Derrick laughed, pointing discreetly toward two muscular men dressed in plain dark coats mingling near a nearby tailoring shop. "I have a few of my family’s personal guards trailing us, too. Don’t worry, Lord Cherion, we have tight security surrounding us today."

Cherion chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Please, don’t call me ’Lord Cherion.’ It feels so formal, like we’re standing in a royal court drawing room. It builds a bit of a wall between us, don’t you think? Just call me Cherion."

Derrick blinked, looking genuinely surprised for a second before his face lit up with a warm smile. "Really? Well... if you insist! Then please, you must call me Derrick as well. No formal titles between us."

"Deal," Cherion smiled. "Now, how about we find a proper place to sit down and eat? All this walking is making me hungry."

"I know just the place," Derrick said brightly, gesturing toward a handsome two-story brick restaurant with dark oak shutters and polished brass lanterns hanging by the entrance. "They have fantastic private dining rooms upstairs facing the garden court."

As they crossed the street toward the grand restaurant entrance, Derrick’s guards and Cherion’s escort subtly fell into position around the perimeter of the building.

Cherion paused at the bottom of the wooden steps, taking a quick glance over his shoulder to check on Reiner and Ezek. The street was packed with commoners, merchants, and low-ranking noble servants moving between the shops. But as Cherion scanned the crowd, his eyes caught on a figure standing motionless near the shadow of an alleyway across the road.

A tall man wrapped in a plain brown traveling cloak was staring straight at him.

Cherion couldn’t see the man’s full face under the deep hood, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. It wasn’t the curious gaze of a passerby or the respectful look of a commoner recognizing a noble, it was a cold, piercing glare filled with pure hatred.

Cherion’s stomach dropped slightly, a chill running down his spine. He held the man’s gaze for a split second before Derrick turned back from the doorway.

"Cherion? Everything alright?" Derrick asked, looking at him with concern.

Cherion blinked, tearing his eyes away from the alleyway and forcing a smooth, easy smile onto his face as he stepped up the stairs. "Yes! Everything is fine. Just looking at the crowd. Lead the way, Derrick."