The first bell shattered the carefully orchestrated harmony of the festival.

Alyssa Hardy stood alone in the crowded plaza, her emerald dress making her conspicuous among the sea of more subdued attire. The second bell rang, sharper than the first, and she watched the ripple of confusion spread through the assembled guests like a stone dropped in still water.

"What's happening?" a woman in expensive jewelry asked no one in particular.

"It's just part of the ceremony," her companion replied unconvincingly.

The third bell eliminated all doubt. Three rings, pause, three rings again. Alyssa recognized the pattern from her Naval upbringing—harbor lockdown. No ships in or out.

Valerio's guards, who moments ago had been smiling servants distributing golden Script coins, transformed before her eyes. Their postures straightened, their expressions hardened, and they moved with military precision to block exits. The green and gold livery that had seemed so decorative now looked like battle colors.

Across the plaza, she spotted Pierre. He stood tall, his red hair visible above the crowd, but he wasn't alone. Four guards in more elaborate uniforms—elite security—were closing in on him from different directions. Their hands rested on weapons that hadn't been visible during the festivities.

Pierre caught her eye. He gave a small shake of his head—don't interfere—then looked pointedly toward the harbor. The message was clear: find Raven, get to the ship.

Alyssa watched as one of the elite guards reached Pierre, speaking into his ear. Pierre's face remained neutral, but his shoulders tensed slightly. He nodded once and allowed the guard to lead him away.

Not toward the holding cells. Toward Valerio's private wing.

Cold realization washed over her. The workshop. The room Pierre had described with medical equipment and restraints. Valerio wanted Pierre's power, and now he was taking him to extract it.

The panic in the plaza intensified as people realized this was no ceremony. Merchants tried to push toward exits, families huddled together, visitors looked frantically for escape routes. Valerio's guards formed cordons, herding people back into central areas.

Alyssa's first instinct was to run after Pierre, but logic overrode emotion. One unarmed woman against elite guards? She'd be captured before reaching him, and then they'd all be lost.

Her father's lessons surfaced in her mind. "Control the battlefield before engaging the enemy." The plaza was the battlefield now, and the crowd was both obstacle and opportunity.

Alyssa straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and stepped onto the base of a nearby fountain. The elevation gave her just enough height to be visible.

"Everyone remain calm!" Her voice carried across the nearest section of the crowd, the commanding tone making heads turn. "This is a standard security procedure. Please organize yourselves by district for safe evacuation."

The guard nearest her turned, confused by this unexpected authority.

"Amber District residents, gather here!" She pointed to a space near the eastern exit. "Harbor District, to my right! Merchant Quarter, toward the north side!"

People hesitated only briefly before responding to the clear commands. In chaos, any direction was better than none. The guard, seeing the crowd beginning to organize rather than panic, nodded approvingly and turned to help with the new arrangement.

"You," Alyssa pointed to a well-dressed man she recognized as a merchant captain. "Take charge of your district group. Count heads, keep families together."

The man straightened automatically at her tone. "Yes, ma'am."

Alyssa stepped down from the fountain and moved through the crowd with purpose, issuing instructions in a voice that brooked no argument. Her childhood as Captain Hardy's daughter had trained her for this—to command, to organize, to create order from chaos.

But unlike her father, she was creating order to serve chaos.

"Shipwrights to the southwest corner," she called, directing a group of Porto Veloce's skilled laborers. "Captains and first mates, please assist with the Harbor District evacuation."

She was pulling the threads of Valerio's tapestry, separating them by profession and status. With each command, she positioned key groups—those with ships, those with skills, those with influence—toward specific exits. The guards, seeing only that she was reducing panic, allowed her to continue.

A small figure darted between groups—Leo, the young dock worker. Alyssa caught his eye and subtly beckoned him closer.

"What's happening?" he asked when he reached her side, voice low and frightened. "Is this because of the ledger?"

"Partly," she whispered, continuing to gesture and direct as they spoke. "My friend has been taken to Valerio's workshop. Raven may have the ledger, but she's missing. We need to create confusion, buy time."

"What can I do?"

Alyssa looked down at the boy. He was thin, overworked, but his eyes held determination that reminded her of Pierre.

"Gather everyone who wants to leave," she said. "Everyone who's tired of Valerio's debts. The Crimson Sparrow will be their ride."

Leo's eyes widened. "But the harbor is locked down."

"That's why we need numbers. Angry people. Desperate people." She spotted another guard approaching and raised her voice. "Medical personnel to the east corner, please! We need to check for injuries from the crowd!"

The guard veered away, focusing on a minor scuffle breaking out elsewhere.

"Go," she whispered to Leo. "Spread the word quietly. Focus on the captains and their families first."

Leo nodded and slipped away into the crowd.

Alyssa continued her work, a commander on a battlefield of her own making. She directed the wealthiest merchants toward the same exit as the poorest dock workers, placing volatile elements side by side. She separated natural allies, united natural enemies, all while maintaining a veneer of helpful organization.

The guards never questioned her authority. Why would they? In Porto Veloce, authority came from confidence, and Alyssa moved with the absolute conviction of someone born to command.

Twenty minutes into her orchestration, she spotted Marco—Valerio's right hand—entering the plaza. He scanned the crowd, his sharp eyes taking in the new arrangements. When his gaze landed on Alyssa, his expression shifted from calculation to suspicion.

He knew.

Alyssa didn't hesitate. She abandoned her post by the fountain and made for the northwest exit, where she'd directed the shipwrights and several merchant captains. Marco followed, pushing through the crowd with increasing urgency.

She reached the exit just as a guard closed the way. "This area is restricted," he said, hand on his weapon.

"I need to speak with the Harbor Master," Alyssa replied, her voice steady despite her racing heart. "Master Valerio's orders. The ships must be secured."

The guard hesitated. Behind her, Marco was getting closer.

"The Harbor Master requires immediate instruction," she pressed. "Unless you'd prefer to explain to Master Valerio why his vessels weren't protected during lockdown?"

The guard stepped aside. "Be quick about it."

Alyssa slipped through the exit, hurrying down the narrow street beyond. Behind her, she heard Marco's voice—"Stop her!"—but she was already turning the corner, her expensive dress gathered in her hands as she ran.

The streets of Porto Veloce were emptier than usual, most residents attending the festival. Those few she passed stared at the noblewoman running as if her life depended on it.

It did.

Alyssa cut through an alley, emerging onto a wider street that led toward the harbor. In the distance, she could see the Crimson Sparrow's distinctive red sails. Guards were posted at regular intervals along the wharf, but they were focused on preventing ships from leaving, not people from approaching.

She needed to reach the ship, to find Raven, to formulate a new plan to save Pierre. But how to get past the guards?

The answer came in the form of raised voices behind her. Turning, she saw a crowd of people moving up the street from the plaza—the merchant captains and shipwrights she'd directed to this exit. Among them, she spotted Leo, moving from group to group, whispering.

The boy had succeeded. These weren't just festival-goers seeking escape; these were Porto Veloce's captive workforce, their frustration finally finding a target.

The crowd reached the harbor checkpoint, overwhelming the handful of guards through sheer numbers. Shouts about unfair contracts and impossible debts filled the air. Someone produced a copy of a ledger page—Leo's work, she realized—and thrust it in a guard's face.

"Is this true?" the captain demanded. "My debt increased while I was at sea?"

Chaos erupted as more captains produced their own papers, comparing notes, realizing they'd all been subjected to the same rigged system. The guards tried to maintain order, but they were outnumbered and unprepared for this focused anger.

Alyssa used the distraction to slip past the checkpoint, making her way toward the Crimson Sparrow. As she approached, a figure emerged from behind a stack of crates near the gangplank.

"Took you long enough, Princess."

Raven stood there, clutching a massive leather-bound book to her chest. Her cap was missing, her distinctive half-red, half-white hair visible again. A small cut on her cheek suggested she hadn't acquired the ledger without resistance.

"Pierre's been taken," Alyssa said without preamble. "To the workshop."

Raven's cat-like eyes narrowed. "I heard. The guards are talking about it—Valerio thinks he's found his perfect subject."

"We need to get him out."

"Obviously." Raven jerked her head toward the growing commotion at the checkpoint. "Your work?"

Alyssa nodded. "Just a little controlled chaos. Leo helped spread word about the ledger."

"Smart kid." Raven glanced at the Crimson Sparrow. "Ship's ready. I disabled the harbor chain mechanism while the guards were busy with your distraction. We can leave anytime."

"Not without Pierre."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.