The streets of Stormhaven were alive with the energy of the bustling city, even in the late evening. The salty tang of the sea mixed with the scents of grilled fish and spices from nearby food stalls. Lanterns hung from wrought iron posts, their flickering light casting long shadows on the cobblestones. Merchants packed up their stalls, sailors swapped tales of their voyages, and the occasional drunkard wobbled through the streets, adding to the symphony of city life.
Elara walked quietly beside Cedric, her thoughts lingering on their destination. The recruitment station for the Duke's expedition loomed in her mind like a beacon—and a test. She was supposed to have reported there yesterday, but circumstances had conspired against her.
She glanced at Cedric, his expression stoic and watchful as always. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of gratitude, though she kept her voice steady. "I still can't believe that stew was poisoned."
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