[center][color=a9a9a9][h3]P O R T   K A I G U R N E ,   S I L I A C H[/h3][/color][/center]

[color=a9a9a9][sup]Zahra watched the soldier approach and slow his pace until arriving near her.

[color=BBD9B4]"Good morning,"[/color] the soldier began, bowing slightly forward. [color=BBD9B4]"My name is Aeneas Castor, Patron of the Port Guard. I assume from the information I've been given that you are... Zahra ibn Mālik. We don't get many eidola here in the port, let alone in Siliach altogether, so I apologize that we took extra time to conduct our inquiries."[/color]

His body shifted awkwardly in place as he lifted his hand. Pinned between a few fingers was a piece of parchment, its creases accentuated.

[color=BBD9B4]"But, everything seems to be in order, so here is your permit approved. Before we open the gates and allow you passage, a few words of note. Our capital, Redmire, is awaiting the coronation of its new queen today. If I am correct, she is currently on the way there, accompanied by a convoy of other carriages. If you do happen to spot them on the road as you travel within Siliach, interaction outside of royal grounds is considered an offense punishable by imprisonment and, perhaps, even death. It's not something we would like to do, but the curse that plagues our royal line is something we handle with the utmost seriousness and discretion.

"Additionally, while we keep its borders protected from the outside world, Siliach may be prone to criminal activity, notably rampant theft. Keep your belongings close and your eye keen. If you would rather, we can assign an armed escort from the port to accompany you to your destination, though this would incur an additional fee. Otherwise, you are free to travel within Siliach as you see fit. Just don't do anything illegal."[/color]

Aeneas went silent for a few moments, as if waiting for a response, but before he could get one, he was called away by two other guards, who themselves were attempting to break up a confrontation between two ylva merchants. With one last wave of his hand and a point towards the eidola, somewhere nearby, the gates of Siliach opened, flanked on each side by several guards who were ready to dispatch any would-be invader.[/sup][/color]

[center][color=a9a9a9][h3]R E D M I R E ,   C A P I T A L   C I T Y[/h3][/color][/center]

[color=a9a9a9][sup][color=88AD84]"My lady, what do you think your first decree will be once you've been crowned?"[/color]

Shenley attempted to make even the barest conversation, hands clasped together. Days before, he was in a different place, far removed from the elegance and bustle a capital city could provide. He was surrounded by close confidants, each of which were notified of what was to transpire. For everything to be successful, the plan would need to go off without a hitch, but there would always be unknown variables. Such a legacy as Redmire's royal line saw to that in great measure.

Eliora turned her face to her elderly advisor, whose errant wisps of silvered hair jostled lightly in the rumble of the carriage.

[color=D9C1DE]"I don't know,"[/color] she began, pausing her thought almost immediately. She remembered how rough her other voice had been and subsequently felt a minuscule lump in her throat. [color=D9C1DE]"Perhaps something can be done about the excess crops? We've more than enough food to keep the city from going hungry. Maybe we can use the surplus to feed the surrounding villages?"[/color]

[color=88AD84]"An excellent idea, your Benevolence."[/color] Shenley managed to choke out a soft chuckle but, once more, silence overwhelmed the small space the two of them shared. Somewhere outside the carriage, they could hear wood hit cobblestone, and the clopping of numerous hooves.

[color=D9C1DE]"I don't want this to happen, Shenley."[/color]

The old man's head turned to see a tear escape Eliora's eye. Inner eyebrows turned upward, he knew something like this was coming.

[color=D9C1DE]"I know there was a promise made,"[/color] the new queen continued, casting her gaze to the window, the gray stonework of Redmire and muted colors that vaguely resembled its residents passing by. [color=D9C1DE]"But... what if it all goes wrong? What if I don't come back?"[/color]

[color=88AD84]"I... I know it's scary, to be in a position like yours. This is not something we've done before, but all our hopes rest on this one event not failing. If there was another way, you wouldn't have to be here, taking up the mantle. I want you to know—everyone involved, I trust them implicitly, because we all share a common belief and the same goal, and I promise you—you will come back."[/color]

His words felt nearly empty, as if he himself struggled with the belief. He didn't lie; he trusted everyone in the plan to the fullest extent, but life is chaos, and anything could fail. It didn't matter if the people in his circle were trustworthy, if even one point in the plan fell through, the future would be filled with death, if anything at all.

As Shenley came to this realization in the quiet, he could feel the carriage slow beneath him. His head turned to Eliora and an old, wrinkly hand reached out to accept hers.

[color=88AD84]"Well, it's time, my dear,"[/color] Shenley concluded, his voice eerily calm. [color=88AD84]"Destiny awaits."[/color]

Eliora slipped her gloved hand into his, her body wracked with near-imperceptible tremors. Her advisor pushed open the door with his other hand, revealing the side of the stage whereupon Eliora would receive her crown. The queen leaned into the doorway, peering out at the congregation that gathered in front of the stage, each face a mix of celebration, unease, and ennui. Shenley gingerly guided Eliora out of the carriage and into the open air.[/sup][/color]