Fifteen minutes after Selvaris stormed out of the palace, the uneasy silence inside the throne hall shattered with the sound of boots against marble. A guard hurried in, his armor clinking with every step, before dropping to one knee before the emperor.
"Your Majesty," he said, breathless. "The envoy from Aethelgard has arrived at the gates. They are… riding in carriages unlike anything we have ever seen."
Dorian's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding audibly. The veins in his temple pulsed as his hand clenched the armrest of his throne. "They've really arrived already?" he spat, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.
They arrived faster than the time they were expected to come, a few minutes too early. But, being almost one hour's travel from the port to the palace is already an impossible feat. And Dorian didn't have time to prepare his court, his posturing, or his traps.
