As soon as Aragon departed from the king's capital, a formidable march of soldiers entered the city's gates, their disciplined footfalls echoing through the cobblestone streets.
In the midst of this imposing procession, a grand carriage made its way, its ornate exterior hinting at the importance of its passengers.
Within the carriage sat Servvas, Lady Rosaryn, and Draaro. Draaro was on the edge, his eyes darting nervously from side to side as he scanned the streets.
Lady Rosaryn, however, remained composed, her gaze firm as she sat comfortably in her seat.
The carriage and its escort drew the eyes of every onlooker, a silent announcement of their return and the new power they sought to assert.
Servvas seemed like he was waiting for Aragon to leave the king's capital; he had started his journey a few days ago and reached it on the exact day of Aragon's departure.
*
