The towering gate of Nevan shimmered in the evening light, its iron lattice work glowing orange from torches mounted at even intervals. The high stone walls, etched with old runes of fortification, cast long shadows over the bustling crowd.
Dozens of soldiers moved along the parapets, and more guarded the entrance below. The flow of people into the city was neatly separated—a wide left lane for commoners, many with bags slung over shoulders and carts in tow, and a right lane packed with wealthy merchants and their guarded caravans.
Kael's eyes flicked to the merchants being escorted through by polished knights and scribes, comparing the ease of their entry.
"Wouldn't it be safer to get in as merchants?" Kael murmured low, just loud enough for the others to hear.
A few heads turned toward him, brows slightly raised. He wasn't alone in that thought.
