The torch beside the hall entrance had been lit recently. Gleb felt the heat from inside when he reached the doorway.
Guests and their households moved through the entry check in a steady flow, each group halted long enough for the steward to confirm names and standing before allowing them through.
Siban stayed two steps behind Gleb with his posture subservient. Eyes lowered toward the floor, hands visible. Nothing about him invited a second look.
The steward handling arrivals was thick through the chest and shoulders, a man used to holding his place in crowded rooms. He carried a wax tablet in one hand and worked through the names in order. When Gleb identified himself, the steward checked the tablet, then looked past him toward the two attendants behind him.
"These are from your household?"
