They stepped out of the palace gates, the early sunlight brushing across the cobblestone streets. Mark kept glancing sideways at the man walking beside him. He is tall, broad-shouldered, relaxed in posture, and smiling as if he had no care in the world. A faint scar ran down the left side of his face, but it only added character rather than making him look dangerous.
He didn't look particularly noble either. No fine robes – he is using the clothes provided by the palace, no entourage, no air of superiority. Just a simple tunic, boots, and a carefree attitude.
Still, Mark couldn't shake the nagging question at the back of his mind. Why the hell was the king himself paying attention to this guy? Even the royal guard had looked like he was standing next to a walking disaster. And yet… here Eccar was, strolling like a man on vacation.
"Who is this guy, really?"
"So," Eccar said suddenly, glancing at Mark with bright curiosity, "you're an adventurer?"
