Elias moved through the South-Eastern tower with the silent, practiced grace of a shadow. He dressed in the charcoal tunic, pinned the silver 'Asset' brooch to his collar with a steady hand, and began his morning walk. The palace had provided him with a map of permitted corridors, and Elias followed it.
He passed through the first monitored zone—a heavy stone archway guarded by two men in royal crimson. They didn't even look at his face; they looked at the brooch. To them, Elias was a feature of the architecture, a slow-moving part of the palace's daily upkeep.
Elias walked with his chin level and his gaze fixed twenty feet ahead. But he wasn't looking at the floor. He was noticing the subtle shifts. Sir Kaelen, usually stationed at the East Gate, had been moved to the Queen's gallery. A new guard, younger and more nervous, had been assigned to the medical stairwell. His armor was too bright; he hadn't learned how to stand still yet.
