A Royal Welcome [Part-2]
Ahead stood the palace gates - high slabs of stone shaped by time, marked with tales long won and wounds still fresh. Overhead, banners trembled just slightly, cloth brushing the dawn breeze like silence pressed into motion.
They opened.
Slowly.
Heavily.
From somewhere below, stone groaned under stone. Rolling out heavy and low, the noise filled the yard, humming like something half-awake. Some of the riders sat taller without thinking. A sharp breath came from one - her hands clenching the leather straps tight.
Off the mount stepped Commander Black, moving clear. A gloved hand found its place against his breastbone. When words came, they carried weight without wavering. His voice, when he spoke, was low but steady. "Go," he said quietly. Then, after a brief pause, softer still, "His Majesty is waiting."
A single nod from Rias. Quiet, without show. She did not pause.
Faster came the rider, spurring her mount ahead.
The others followed.
