Luca climbed the brick watchtower at first light, hoping to spot trouble before it found Aldenmore. He wanted to earn his place as sworn protector, and that meant seeing everything. But the town spread wide below him, and his eyes could only point one way at a time. A shout rose from the market square. Luca turned, then heard glass break in the other direction. He ran down the steps, knowing he would reach one street too late and miss the other entirely. By the time he got there, a cart had tipped and a child was crying. He helped lift the wheel, but his jaw was tight. Across town, a window had been smashed, and no one had stopped it. Luca walked to the pink house at the edge of the lane. His friend was sweeping the step. "I can't be everywhere," he said. She set the broom down. "Then don't try to be," she answered. "Ask people to watch with you. Start with me." He nodded slowly. He had been guarding alone. That ended today.

The next morning, Luca walked from the pink house with a short list in his pocket. His friend had agreed to help, and one neighbor had too. But two pairs of eyes could not cover a town this wide. He needed more watchers, and he needed to know who would actually show up. He climbed the steps of the big hall in the center of town. Inside, the stone floor echoed under his boots. He pinned a notice to the wide door and waited. People came in slowly. Some he barely knew. He realized he could not tell, just by looking, who would stand a night watch and who would slip away. Then a pink-haired woman pushed through the crowd, sunglasses pushed up on her head. "Hun, you're going about this all wrong," Juliet said. She tapped his list. "I know every single person in this town. Who gossips, who shows up, who bails." Behind her, his friend stepped in with flour still on her apron. "She's right," she said quietly. "Let her help you pick." By dusk, they had six names Juliet trusted and three she'd crossed out hard. Luca posted the watch schedule on the hall door. He had his team. But as he locked up, Juliet frowned at one crossed-out name. "That one," she said. "He took it personal that I said no."