Eccar rose from the bench and headed back toward the palace proper.
As he crossed into the inner corridors, the Elves greeted him from every direction. Courtiers bowed, guards placed hands over their chests, and the attendants smiled with clear relief at the sight of him moving freely among them.
"Dragonborn," one of the guards said respectfully.
Eccar nodded back. "Oh? Haha yeah… you're doing well. Keep it up."
His lips curved into a smile, but it was stiff, held together by effort alone.
He made sure his steps stayed relaxed, his shoulders loose, and his presence calm. He could feel eyes on him, measuring, and reassured by his composure.
He understood what he represented here. If he showed unease, the palace would feel it ripple outward.
"Don't let it show," he reminded himself.
He continued forward, accepting greetings with brief words and shallow smiles, never slowing his pace.
