Morning spilled into the narrow streets of the city, washing away the last shadows of night with a
pale, golden light.
In the slums, the sunlight fell in scattered rays through torn canvas awnings and gaps in the rooftops, catching on drifting dust motes that danced like tiny fireflies.
Ethan adjusted the sleeves of his black shirt, rolling them neatly to his forearms, the morning chill
brushing cool fingers over his skin.
He tilted his head toward Reyna as they made their way down the winding alleys.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice low, carrying that lazy confidence that always seemed to wrap
around his words like silk.
Reyna hoisted a heavy burlap sack over her shoulder, muscles rippling beneath her cloak. "Yer
askin' me if I'm ready to give away food? Ain't no sword-swingin' involved today, but fine. Let's
get this done."
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "Try not to scare the kids off with that face of yours,
barbarian."
