Though we make an early start out of High Garden the following morning, we don't reach the Capital until it's afternoon.
As our carriage rumbles to the high metal gates that stretch outwards on both sides, seventy feet across, the watchtower Captain—spying the royal colors and gold wings on the wagon—yells to his officers from high up on his perch. A group of six armored city guards soon appear as we roll into the open gates. Flanking the carriage behind, they give quick nods towards my female horse-master, who whips the reins on the four white horses, leading us on as trooping traders clear the way under helmeted gazes of our new escorts; their simple order from their Captain being to ensure my safe arrival to the high perch of the Castle looming above the brownstone homes in the distance.
