Cenone is dressed in unrelieved black, with the city's ancient black crown resting on his white hair. You find yourself thinking you'd never confuse it with something out of the prop box; it is the realest crown you have ever seen. Though no longer young, the city's ruler still has the sharp eyes and erect posture of the conquering hero of a score of battles. He regards the scene with a skeptical gaze that seems to note every imperfection.
His two sons both look at ease at their father's side, and you can see the strong family resemblance despite their ill-matched dress.
The older, Liathar, is a stocky man wearing a rich velvet doublet over dark hose in this year's most fashionable russet and gold. His dark hair and rugged features suggest what Cenone must have looked like in youth, although Liathar is far more cheerful in his bearing.
The younger son, Falathar, is dressed as plainly as a scholar in brown wool, though the fit of his doublet is impeccable. Falathar looks at first sight like a faded copy of Liathar, with lighter hair and narrower shoulders, and a quick, sideways smile that's all his own.
Greet them, Matty said. That's your first step.