The Princess and The Criminal [ CAITVI ]

8 | A Breath Apart

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Caitlyn's POV
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We stepped out into the streets of Piltover, and unease crept in immediately, wrapping around me like a heavy cloak.

The first rays of sunlight spilled over the jagged rooftops, painting the streets in muted gold. But this city didn't wake like my estate—it roared, a chaotic symphony of clanging metal, shouted orders, and a constant murmur of voices. The noise was heavy and suffocating.

I tugged my hood tighter over my head, the coarse fabric scratching against the nape of my neck. My fingers brushed the edge of my face as I glanced around, trying not to make eye contact with anyone for too long. It felt like every pair of eyes on the street could see straight through me.

Vi, of course, seemed unfazed. She strolled ahead, shoulders relaxed, hands casually in her pockets like she didn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile, every step I took felt like I was walking a razor's edge.

"Relax," Vi's voice cut through my thoughts. She didn't even turn around, just tossed the words over her shoulder—her voice low and gruff. "You're drawing more attention acting like you've got a bounty on your head."

I quickened my pace to catch up, glaring at her back. "I do have a bounty on my head," I shot back, my voice sharp but quiet enough to avoid eavesdropping ears.

Vi glanced back, her smirk both infuriating and oddly reassuring. "Doesn't matter. Confidence sells. Keep looking like you're about to bolt, and you'll catch every set of eyes from here to Zaun."

The nerve of her.

I clenched my jaw but obeyed, straightening my posture—forcing my shoulders back. If there was one thing I hated most in this world, it was letting Vi be right. I wasn't about to let Vi lecture me on confidence.

The morning crowds thickened as we turned into one of Piltover's busier streets. Vendors had set up their carts in haphazard lines, shouting over one another to hawk their wares. The air smelled of freshly baked bread, sizzling oil, and something sweet I couldn't quite place. My stomach twisted painfully at the scent, a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since my last meal.

Without a word, Vi veered into a narrow alley, and I had to jog a few steps to keep up, my pace more frantic than hers.

The alley was damp and shadowed, and the walls of the surrounding buildings looming high above. The noise of the street became muffled here, replaced by the drip of water from somewhere unseen.

"How much farther?" I asked, the fatigue bleeding into my voice despite my best efforts to sound indifferent.

Vi glanced back at me, "We're not far. Don't worry, your royal legs will make it."

I bit back a retort, letting out a soft sigh, trying to ignore the ache in my legs from the endless walking. Every muscle in my body protested, and the events of the night before still lingered in my head. Sore. Exhausted. Starving. But I refused to let her see any of it.

Unfortunately, my stomach had other plans.

The loud, involuntary growl that echoed between us was unmistakable. I froze, embarrassed bathing my body.

Vi paused, turning to face me with raised eyebrows and an annoyingly smug grin. "Hungry?

"I'm fine," I said stiffly, straightening my back in defiance.

Her grin widened as my stomach growled again, louder this time, and I could feel my face burn in humiliation. She let out a laugh, the sound gravelly and rich, and far too amused at my expense.