The courtyard buzzed with movement, but it wasn't chaos—there was a calculated rhythm. Commander Valerie, clad in her travel armour, moved among her knights with practised ease, barking the occasional order while overseeing the final preparations. Her presence alone was enough to keep the atmosphere focused, even as the rising sun cast long golden shadows on the stone beneath their feet.
Luke and Ilyrana approached from the west corridor, both carrying their respective belongings—Luke with a packed satchel and his weapon tied across his back, Ilyrana with a slim travelling bundle and a steady gait. The air still held that morning bite, crisp and quiet, the kind that made the clang of armour or a call for readiness sound all the more immediate.
Waiting for them near the first carriage was a familiar face.
