The moment Zane stepped beyond the Caelum estate gates, the air felt different—brighter, fresher, alive. He had to squint as sunlight poured across his face, warmth he hadn’t felt in years.
Zane couldn’t help but stare. A woman balancing a basket of fruit on her head. A child tugging at his mother’s skirts. A guard yawning at his post. He stared and stared until, inevitably, they stared back.
One man with a scar across his cheek glared so hard Zane almost tripped over himself.
"Right," Zane muttered, forcing his eyes down. "Note to self: people don’t like being stared at. Shocking discovery."
Still, curiosity tugged at him like a leash. He had never seen the world in motion —so noisy, so messy, so... real.
But all that wonder crumbled the second something else caught his attention.
"...Is that... roasted chicken?"
The smell was heavenly, a golden trail of spice and sizzling fat that lured him down the street like a siren call. His stomach growled. His shadow pulsed behind him in agreement, like it could taste it too.
Before long, Zane found himself in front of a stall where a man was lazily turning a spit over glowing coals. The chicken’s skin crackled, juices dripping down into the fire with a hiss.
"Hello, young lad," the man grinned, all teeth. "Would you like a piece?"
"Yes," Zane said immediately, leaning forward like a beggar. "How much is it?"
The man’s eyes flicked to Zane’s clothes—noble fabric, even if wrinkled from travel—and his grin widened.
"...One... gold coin?"
Was that cheap? Expensive? His parents only gave him two. Was he already broke before even reaching the academy? Suspicion stirred, but his stomach growled louder than his brain.
"Fine." Zane fished out a coin and handed it over.
Before the man could pocket it, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
Zane turned. A woman with auburn hair tied back in a messy bun strode over, hands on her hips. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she had the look of someone who didn’t tolerate nonsense.
"Don’t mind her," the man—Dirk—said quickly. "She’s a bit crazy."
"I am not crazy, Dirk," the woman snapped. "Now why would you treat the poor boy like that? Give him back his gold coin."
Dirk’s face twitched. After a long moment of glaring at her, he slapped the coin back into Zane’s palm.
The woman pulled out two bronze coins, dropped them on the counter, and slid a piece of chicken toward Zane.
"There. A fair price. Two bronze."
Zane blinked at her, then at the coins. "...Two... bronze?"
She sighed. "You really don’t know anything, do you?"
"...What do you mean?"
"You were about to be scammed," she said bluntly. "No, pardon me—you were scammed. Just not for long."
Then she patiently explained:
100 bronze = 1 silver.
Zane’s jaw dropped as realization hit. "...So that means he tried to sell me chicken worth—worth—"
"A fraction of a fraction of a coin," she finished.
Zane looked at Dirk, betrayal in his eyes. "...You monster."
The woman handed him the chicken. "Eat before it gets cold."
Zane bit into it, crispy skin and juicy meat exploding in his mouth. His eyes lit up instantly.
"...Worth it," he mumbled around a mouthful.
The woman rolled her eyes but smiled faintly before walking off. Zane licked his fingers clean, his shadow mimicking the motion. For the first time outside his mansion walls, Zane didn’t feel trapped.