The day had begun without pause, and the streets were already alive with movement and purpose. Nothing lingered for long—people, voices, even attention drifted quickly from one thing to the next.
The inn they had taken was modest, tucked just beyond the busiest stretch of the waterfront—close enough to Port Luminara to keep watch, yet distant enough to have a pleasant repose.
Its wooden verandah overlooked a steady flow of passersby, merchants, and travellers traversing through the waking city.
Kyren sat alone along the railing.
Even at rest, he drew eyes.
People slowed as they passed by, some stealing glances, others less subtle—whispers trailing from their lips.
The grand duke's broad frame and upright posture set him apart immediately, and though a thick beard and heavy sideburns partially obscured his face, there was no hiding the sharpness of his features nor the intensity of his gaze.
