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Chapter 110 - Golden Fortune City XVI

The breeze off the cliffside carried the salt of the sea and the faint tang of incense burning in the temple district below. Rhys leaned back against the willow trunk, eyes half-closed. For a long while, he simply listened—the chatter of merchants rolling carts, the call of gulls wheeling over the harbor, the rhythmic clang of smiths hammering steel into shape. Golden Fortune lived, breathed, and moved around him, but for once it did not demand anything of him.

That stillness was almost foreign.

When at last he rose, the sun was high, painting the city in a warm haze. His boots carried him into the crowded avenues where preparations for the Festival of Closing had begun in earnest. Banners of gold and crimson were strung between rooftops. Children ran with paper lanterns shaped like beasts and moons. Even the hard-faced mercenaries who had filled taverns with their boasts a day ago now found themselves weaving flowers into their braids or sparring lazily in the streets.

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