The Secret Meeting

The patrol leader's face turned pale the moment his eyes locked onto the signet. His words caught in his throat, and he immediately lowered his sword.

"I—I'm sorry, sir," he stammered. "We had orders… strict ones. Protector Vareth said if you're seen, we are to bring you straight to the Council Hall."

The rest of the soldiers quickly bowed, their earlier aggression replaced by nervous respect.

Ethan gave them a cold, hard glare, the kind that Duran might've used on subordinates who wasted his time.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he said sharply.

The leader flinched again. "Y-yes, sir. Right away."

They stepped back, giving him space. Two of them turned and began walking toward the eastern road that led to the Council Hall, casting occasional glances over their shoulders. Ethan followed, keeping his steps firm and measured, hiding the tension tightening in his chest.

Every movement had to be in character now.

He was Duran.