The city was already sinking into evening when Salmeter left the Ravensdale estate.
He did not use the roads.
A dark figure crossed the tiled roof of a merchant's house, boots landing without a sound before he pushed off again. He cleared the narrow alley between two buildings, caught the edge of a chimney with one hand, swung himself around it, and landed on the opposite roof.
Below, the city moved as it always did.
Carts rattled over stone. Vendors shouted over one another. Lanterns were being lit along the market streets, their orange glow spreading beneath him like scattered embers.
Salmeter barely looked down.
He had spent most of his life learning how not to be seen.
The Ravensdale woman had become the latest concern.
Aria of Ravensdale.
He had no personal hatred for her. That was the truth Voss would never understand because Voss had never cared whether a man possessed a reason for killing.
He cared only whether the man obeyed.
