"He is allowed entry."
The words hung in the air like the toll of a great bell.
The guard froze. His hand slid away from the hilt of his sword. His body straightened, and though his jaw remained set, his eyes flickered toward the old man who had arrived panting moments before.
Leo exhaled slowly, his shoulders easing, though the dangerous glow in his eyes did not fade completely. Avin, still tight with nerves, felt the tension bleed from the air like water draining out of a cracked basin.
The old man took one more deep breath, then another, his chest rising and falling beneath the crisp black fabric of his suit. He straightened, smoothing the wrinkles with fastidious precision, as though the act of buttoning his jacket properly would erase the image of him staggering and wheezing moments ago.
Finally, he lifted his chin, stepped forward, and bowed his head with solemn grace.
