The noise of soldiers laughing, teasing each other, and clashing their mugs together rolled across the courtyard like a small storm, creating this warm and lively atmosphere that didn't match the cold evening air. Jinn walked through the center of it all, weaving past groups of infantrymen who were already deep into their food and drinks. He didn't rush, nor did he slow down—he simply kept moving, letting the sound wash over him.
A few maids and butlers stopped what they were doing when they noticed him, their eyes following him with cautious curiosity. Even some of the soldiers paused mid-sentence or mid-bite, confused as to why someone like him—a Scion, a figure who belonged among the nobles—was walking around the common banquet instead of inside the Royal Palace where the chandeliers and golden plates awaited the high-ranking guests.
Of course, none of them knew the truth.
No one called his name.
They simply closed the doors.
