Chapter 226
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.
Martina, walking at the front, answered calmly, "Merchants are all registered. And His Highness the Third Prince personally oversees that registration to root out spies or smugglers. Anyone that smells wrong is interrogated."
She glanced back at him. "Besides, Nevan's the trade capital in this region. Natural harbor, central location, everything flows through here. And everyone watches."
"It's better to go as a commoner than as a merchants of warriors."
Kael nodded, understanding. "So, go as a nobody, pass like a shadow."
"Exactly," Martina said.
As they neared the checkpoint, they could hear the sounds of coins clinking, tired groans, and the firm voices of guards barking instructions.
Each person at the front of the line was halted by a short, bearded guard.