The servants of the Lechian prince, faces pale with lingering unease, had hastily done as commanded and secured a place for Lucas and his companions. The arrangement had been made deep within the commoners' district. The streets were filled with the scent of baked bread, sweat, and ale. Wooden shutters rattled against brick walls, and vendors hawked their wares long into the evening. The common people, far bolder than the nobles, peered openly at Lucas and the three radiant young women with him, whispering among themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity and awe.
The guards who had escorted them remained close, their armor clinking faintly, though their expressions betrayed no ease. As they halted in front of the inn...a modest building with lanterns swaying gently by the doorway...Lucas turned on his heel to face them. His hands were still casually wrapped around the waists of Nyx and Selene, while Lira lingered just slightly behind, her hand brushing his sleeve.
