Seraphina had taken it upon herself to keep everyone in line, though her stern words fell flat whenever Ethan muttered something under his breath that made her ears twitch.
Dorian stood apart but not distant, watching the flow of the crowd with the stillness of a wolf waiting for a signal.
It was messy. Chaotic. Alive.
Merlin let it wash over him, the chatter, the laughter, the way life seemed to knot all of them together without effort. He wasn't used to this kind of quiet joy, not anymore.
The afternoon drifted into evening. The group wandered as one, weaving through food stalls, peeking into armories, pausing at a small bookshop where Sophia Ashford had once assigned Nathan homework they all collectively hated.
At one point Nathan convinced half of them into a casual sparring ring set up by a traveling merchant. Wooden swords, blunted spears, practice staves, it was chaos from the start.
