"How do I look?" he asked.
"Like a tired merchant who's had a long day on the road," Cassius said approvingly. "Perfect. Your posture sells it—slightly slumped shoulders, not standing at full attention. That's good. Guards notice people who are too alert or too nervous. You look appropriately weary. Lady Sylvara?"
Sylvara had already put on her cloak, the hood casting her features in shadow. She adjusted her posture, letting her shoulders slump slightly and adding a subtle weariness to how she held herself.
"Ready," she said, her voice taking on a slightly different quality—less the precise tone of an assassin and more the tired timbre of a merchant who'd spent days traveling.
