In Soaring Bird City, within the palace.
In a secret chamber, Torin, Mike, and Wyatt opened their eyes simultaneously, their expressions a mixture of excitement and relief.
"Have a drink before you go," Torin's voice drifted calmly from the darkness of the chamber. "I bought some spirits from the dwarves. Take a bottle with you. And what happened tonight… stays buried in your hearts."
"As you command, My Lord," Mike and Wyatt replied, their tone deeply respectful.
The title "My Lord" they used was not just a formality. In the human kingdom, it typically referred to a noble who possessed a fiefdom. Torin, with his title and his territory, certainly fit the description. Furthermore, "My Lord" held more promise for the future than a simple "Master."
"Go on now," Torin added. "And remember to walk slowly. Make sure the night watch sees you."
"We understand, My Lord."
