Unlike the sterile, quiet, and heavily perfumed halls of the palace, the capital city was a chaotic explosion of sound and color. Street vendors shouted their prices, children ran through the narrow alleys chasing stray dogs, and the thick, heavy scent of grilled meats, spiced wine, and woodsmoke hung in the brisk autumn air.
Ken and Mahir instantly shifted into predator mode.
Despite wearing loose linen shirts that made them look like local blacksmiths, their posture was rigid, their eyes scanning the rooftops and alleyways for assassins. Whenever a commoner accidentally walked within a three-foot radius of Elara, Ken would emit a low, rumbling growl from the back of his throat, causing the poor citizen to pale and scramble away in sheer terror.
Julian abruptly stopped, spinning around and pointing at the two commanders.
