"What do you mean, we are not permitted entry?"
Greyoll sat high atop her scale-maned steed, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at the trembling man below. "Prince Luthier travels to Leyndell at the express invitation of Queen Marika herself. Are you suggesting that Karen City now represents the Golden Order in refusing a visitation from Farum Azula?"
"No, no! Not at all!" The envoy from Karen City shuddered at her tone. He bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the dirt, his voice quivering with terror. "I implore your ladyship to understand. Neither I nor Karen City would ever dare—nor do we have the standing—to offend Prince Luthier. It is only that..."
"Only what?" Greyoll snapped, her hand drifting toward the hilt of her blade.
The man stole a quick glance at the surrounding Storm Knights, whose expressions were darkening by the second. He looked back at the frost-cold warrior-maiden and gritted his teeth. "I beg your ladyship to allow me an audience with Prince Luthier. I must report the situation to the Prince and his commanders directly!"
He remained rooted to the spot, his body shaking with a fear he could not hide, yet he kept his head high in a stubborn refusal to say more to a subordinate.
"You insolent..." Greyoll began, a wave of palpable draconic pressure radiating from her, nearly suffocating the man.
The rhythmic beat of hooves broke the stifling atmosphere. Agheel rode up to Greyoll's side, his face unreadable. "The Prince has given the word. He will receive the envoy at the center of the camp."
Greyoll blinked, her fury cooling into a sharp, lingering glare. She gave the nearly collapsed man a final, icy look. "Stand up straight. Follow me."
A short time later, the envoy was led to a temporary riverside pavilion. There, he finally saw the newborn demigod whose name had been whispering through the halls of the Golden Order. When his eyes landed on the youth, who appeared no older than fourteen or fifteen, a flash of undeniable surprise crossed his face.
"Do not be startled. The growth of an Ancient Dragon is far removed from that of a human," Luthier said, not looking up from the book in his hands. "To be precise, I spent my childhood over the last thousand years within a Sovereign Egg. Now, if you intend to offer a reasonable explanation for this reception, please do so before my patience reaches its limit."
The man felt a jolt of alarm. As those glacial blue eyes swept over him, he had the sudden, chilling sensation that his every secret was being picked apart. He couldn't tell if the feeling came from the psychic weight of a demigod's presence or from the "boy's" unnerving maturity.
"I am Clavell, Internal Affairs Officer of Karen City. I humiliate myself before your Highness!" He dropped to both knees, performing a full kowtow on the grass.
In the millennium-old traditions of the Lands Between, the most a commoner usually offered was a single knee. Only a god, a demigod, or the Elden Lord himself was entitled to such a display of absolute submission.
"Rise," Luthier said calmly.
Before this journey began, Luthier had spent weeks studying the Golden Order's political structure and its sprawling bureaucracy. He knew exactly what an "Internal Affairs Officer" was.
Unlike the more sophisticated dual-rule systems of the Altus Plateau, the Golden Order's frontier cities were often governed by a single Governor who held absolute sway over military and civil life. It was a crude, often unjust system, but it was efficient for maintaining control over the wilder borderlands. Karen City, though close to the Plateau, sat on the edge of the volatile Mt. Gelmir region. It faced constant pressure from demi-human tribes and roaming Trolls, necessitating its rigid military rule.
Clavell was a deputy of that system, a local official elected to handle the tedious paperwork the Governor found beneath him. He held no real power and was entirely expendable.
Clavell stood up with stiff, mechanical movements, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground near Luthier's boots. "Highness, the decision to station your delegation outside the walls was not mine. It was a command issued this morning by Governor Hektov. His reasoning is that rebellious demi-human tribes have been attempting to infiltrate our defenses for weeks. He fears the chaos of a formal welcoming ceremony would provide the opening they need to sabotage our security hubs. The consequences would be catastrophic."
"Extreme measures for extreme times. I understand," Luthier replied, resting his chin on one hand. His tone remained as flat as still water, giving Clavell no hint of his true thoughts.
"However," Luthier continued, his voice shifting slightly. "Does he truly intend to keep the gates barred and leave us to sleep in the wilderness until we depart tomorrow?"
"Never!" Clavell bowed deeply once more. "As the officer in charge of internal logistics, I have already established a camp for your Highness and your escort three miles east of the city. Supplies and provisions are waiting. I humbly request that your Highness move to the encampment."
Luthier did not answer immediately.
Even with his head bowed, Clavell could feel the Prince's gaze scrutinizing him. He did not dare to move, standing in a posture of perfect supplication while cold sweat soaked through his tunic.
After a silence that felt like an eternity, Luthier finally spoke. "Since Master Clavell has arranged everything, and since my men are indeed weary from the road, we shall proceed to the camp at once."
He rose and closed his book. At a wave of his hand, a knight stepped forward leading a silver-white horse with dragon-scaled hide. Luthier mounted the beast with a clean, practiced motion. The horse, which carried the blood of lesser drakes, looked magnificent beneath the young demigod, who seemed to glow with the radiance of a rising sun.
The command was given, and Greyoll and Agheel moved with practiced efficiency to reorganize the column.
As the procession began to move, Clavell moved toward the vanguard to lead the way. However, Luthier raised a hand to stop him. "The soldiers can follow the lead of your men. Master Clavell, I would prefer you ride with me. There are several matters regarding the local region I wish to understand more clearly."
Clavell looked up. Though the silver-haired youth hadn't used the tone of a command, the cold clarity in his eyes made it clear there was no room for refusal.
The official took a deep breath and bowed from his saddle. "As you command, Highness."