In the early morning of the Royal Capital, the mist from the canal district had not yet fully dispersed.
Velin walked down a small alley paved with uneven stone slabs.
Craftsmen carrying toolboxes and street vendors pushing wheelbarrows of breakfast brushed past him.
He followed a young man from a discreet distance.
The young man wore a well-tailored linen jacket. The material was of good quality, but its style and color were so unremarkable that he blended perfectly into the crowd.
This was Tristan, the second son of Marquis Lorenzo.
Velin had obtained Tristan's itinerary for the day from an informant at the Mercenary Guild. He had decided to personally confirm the value of this intelligence.
One after the other, they entered the Royal Capital's artisan district.
The clang of blacksmiths' hammers, the buzz of carpenters' saws, and the clatter of looms from textile workshops merged into a symphony of industry.
