Liana and Gloria rode in silence, calmly following behind as Princess Felicia led the way on her Pekko, her posture straight and dignified as ever.
Ahead, the outline of Marrenthold's stronghold came into view—a modest town fortified with tall wooden walls, stone towers, and a wide gate just barely open.
At the gate itself, one guard sat on a barrel, dozing with his helmet tilted forward, snoring faintly.
But up on the walls—on the watchtower and above the battlements—keen eyes spotted the approaching figures.
Two riders with silver hair.
One with long black hair.
And one of them—her aura regal, her expression like chiseled ice—was unmistakable.
"...T-The scary princess is here…"
That whisper traveled faster than any alarm bell.
Without a single shout, the panic began.
"Tuck your uniform!"
"Armor—polish it! Now!"
"Boots—wipe the mud off! "
"Your sword's upside down, idiot—fix it!"
"I—I forgot my shield!"
