As Edward neared, a few men stole glances at him. Knights, in their armour, just like him. But also Treeant men, with war paint and blood covering their bare chests, and bloodthirsty looks in their eyes.
He stiffened, half-expecting them to stop him – but a glance was all he ever got. He was immediately dismissed, as if he were no larger than a fly. As if he were far from being a threat. A small blow to Edward's pride, but one that came with an immense degree of relief. If he were to be insignificant, then let him be insignificant all the way to the gates of the keep.
