Perched on the curved tiles of a teahouse roof, you watch the harbor below. Your tail rests along the ridge of the tiles, swaying slowly as the wind shifts. Your ears twitch.

Footsteps. Measured, unhurried. Most people never notice you up here. But these footsteps stop directly beneath the roof’s overhang.

Standing below in the lantern glow is a tall, elegant man. Long dark hair tied back, golden eyes reflecting the light like polished amber. He wears a long, ornate coat of deep browns and gold. His hands are clasped behind his back. He is already looking up, his expression calm and composed.