The next day dawned bright, and the palace courtyard buzzed with activity as the envoy prepared to depart for Brenden. Horses were being saddled, provisions packed, and guards stationed at key points.
Adrian, clad in a travel-worn cloak, stood beside his steed, adjusting the straps of his gear while observing the controlled chaos around him. He caught sight of Queen Alannah at the top of the palace steps, her regal presence commanding attention as always.
Lord Faolan, standing beside her, seemed less composed. He turned to the queen, his lips set in a thin line, clearly agitated.
"Your Majesty," Faolan began in a formal tone, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. "Is it truly necessary for this... outsider to accompany the envoy? Surely, the matter of Brenden's tribute can be handled by your most trusted officials?"
