Not Ornaments to a Reign
Not far off, the guards from Silver City and Blackthorn held still until Leon looked their way. Then, spine by spine, they pulled upright. Heads rose like drawn blinds. Their voices joined without warning.
"We greet our king."
Leon nodded once.
A small moment passed between them. Nothing loud or showy about it. A quiet nod did the work instead.
Yet it meant something.
The hush returned to the open space, quiet now not from wonder, yet from watching. Quiet settled because everyone waited.
A step ahead, Leon moved where petals lay pressed into cold stone under his boots. Light from high palace turrets slid sideways, touching the seven-headed serpent emblem on each guard's chest plate. Air stirred again - this time with traces of smoke and metal curling through it.
His gaze held theirs, seeing more than trophies of triumph.
But as men.
"You've traveled far," Leon said evenly, voice steady but unguarded. "Long roads. Little sleep. Too many unknowns."
