Creak...
The wagon lurched to a stop.
We'd probably reached the capital.
Now everything depended on Ilya's ability to masterfully divert the general's attention from the wagon.
On the way here, not much had happened. They'd barely spoken, except when the general attempted making small talk with Ilya. I was guessing she regretted allowing him into the convoy per the architect's consistent requests, judging by how she'd cut him off with single-line answers or, sometimes, just pointed silence.
Crikk...
The general, in his shining armor, climbed down from the wagon. Then Ilya followed, her heels barely making a sound against the wagon's wooden floor.
The general possessed intermediate aura, which meant he had decent perception of his surroundings.
But Ilya was well-prepared with her choice of clothing for us.
