The early morning sun bathed the Neomenia palace courtyard in a pale golden light, casting long shadows across the cobbled stones.
The scene was one of quiet preparation, where duty loomed over hearts burdened with farewells.
Horses stood at the ready, snorting and stamping as the riders prepared themselves, armor and saddles gleaming. The Valeidio banners fluttered in the gentle breeze, yet none of the men gathered looked joyful at their departure.
King Xavian tightened the strap on his gauntlet, his brow furrowed. His gaze moved from one end of the courtyard to the other, settling on his brother-in-law, Lord Cedric. Cedric, with a steady and reassuring expression, approached him. Xavian's voice was low, weighted by emotions he struggled to hide.
