Caspian dismounted his horse, the chilled air biting at his cheeks as he surveyed the remains of the hunting ground where the Anti-Royal faction had ambushed the nobles here and attempted to kidnap Elara just days ago. It was quiet now, eerily so, and the broken remains of the deconstructed pavilions lay in the distance as workers loaded their remains into carriages to haul them away until it was time for the next festival in Zephyrgreen. He adjusted the gloves on his hands, a familiar gesture to calm the rising impatience that had been threatening to stifle him from the moment he arrived in the capital.
"What a surprise," Kyran said, tying his horse to a tree before moving to Caspian's side. "You've been unusually quiet since we got here. I expected you to complain about His Majesty wasting our time on an investigation that will very clearly yield no results."
Caspian arched a brow. "Have I grown so predictable?"
