The eyes of the cunning old foxes in attendance darted subtly, each of them lost in their own tangled thoughts. Standing behind the City Lord was a young woman—Gorr's Niece—who frowned slightly as her gaze lingered on Ethan. A strange light flickered in her eyes, uncertain and measuring.
Ethan stepped forward to stand beside the City Lord, his thoughts mirroring the unease of the others. He couldn't make sense of this old man's intentions. There was no visible malice—even when Ethan had deliberately provoked him earlier, the City Lord hadn't reacted.
And then there was the girl behind him. Why was she staring at him like that? She had an innocent, almost gentle look—like the kind of girl who'd appear in the daydreams of quiet boys. Hmm... that spatial pouch of hers seemed pretty nice.
"This old man is Regis," the City Lord said suddenly, still gazing out over the city below. "As for my identity, you've likely guessed already. May I ask your name, young man?"
