The night was colder than anyone remembered, the kind of cold that seeped through stone walls and settled deep into bones. A thick fog rolled over the city, wrapping it in a ghostly shroud, muting the world to a whisper. In the heart of an ancient district, beneath flickering gas lamps, a woman moved with purpose. Her footsteps were soft, yet deliberate, as if every step stitched a secret into the night itself.   She carried something precious—a bundle wrapped in velvet the color of ice, cool and heavy in her arms. The fabric shimmered faintly, catching stray beams of moonlight like frozen tears.