Eleanor's POV
After I struck that uneasy, wordless deal with Nomad, the rest of the day was a tour through a carefully constructed hell. We walked through other parts of the town—the market, a residential square, a small park that felt more like a display than a place for joy.
Everywhere, the same feeling. People moving with a cautious, calculated grace. Conversations hushed when we passed. Eyes averted. It was a society built on a foundation of fear, and everyone had learned to tread on eggshells to survive.
