On the horizon, the Luxenberg Army could see the city of Sinolla.
The city unfurled beneath a sky of soft ochre and pearl, its terracotta rooftops glowing like embers against the cool breath of the sea. Cobbled streets wound gently downhill, framed by tightly clustered buildings with weatherworn plaster and green-shuttered windows, all converging toward the bustling northern port—a hive of ships and shouting stevedores.
Fishermen with rolled sleeves hauled their nets ashore, while barefoot children darted through crowds of merchants and mule-drawn carts. The city was alive but tired—its walls chipped, its steps eroded—but it carried the kind of beauty that only centuries of salt, sweat, and history could shape.
At first, the citizens panicked, thinking that there was an enemy fleet approaching. Their fears were put to rest as only one ship from the fleet approached. It was visibly bigger than the rest and was a beautiful looking ship. This was Victor's Holy Trinity. They were docked at one of the main piers of the port.
Victor and his entourage were met by Sir Matteo and a handful of Green Visconte soldiers. "Welcome to Sinolla, You Majesty. Prince Alphonse is waiting for you. I will lead you to the Sozzini Palace. As for your soldiers, we will begin to assist them in disembarking," Matteo said, gesturing for Victor to follow him.
The king from Bulgar nodded and complied with Matteo's directions. Accompanying Victor, was Field Marshal Wellesley, Marshal Bessières and a dozen of Royal Guard infantrymen.
In the heart of the sun-warmed city, rising above the clustered rooftops and narrow alleys, stood the a grand, timeworn palace. Its limestone façade, once blindingly white, had mellowed to the soft hue of old ivory, streaked with salt and soot from centuries of sea winds. The building sprawled across a terraced hill, its wings opening like arms toward the northern port, as though watching over the ships.
Tall arched windows, framed by crumbling Corinthian pilasters, gazed out over the city. Shutters of dark wood, some hanging askew, creaked in the breeze. Above the central entrance, a weathered family crest—part lion, part eagle—was carved into the stone, its edges softened by time but still defiant. The iron gates below were twisted with vines and gilded filigree, rust kissing the edges of the old gold.
The red and green part lion, part eagle banners of house Sozzini and the Green Manticore banners of Green Viscontes waved bristly in the wind as the Victor and the others walked into the courtyard.
The courtyard opened at the centre, its tiled fountain dry, but surrounded by a lush chaos of citrus trees, ivy, and oleander. Pigeons nested in the colonnades. From its balcony, one could see the sea beyond the rooftops, the sails moving slowly across the horizon like ghosts of forgotten merchants. The palace had the look of something regal that had refused to die—even as the world changed around it.
Victor and his companions marvelled at the unique architecture of the palace; it was breathtaking. It was a place with rich history, and one could only imagine what it looked like in its prime. Matteo took a moment to allow the visitors to have a little look around before leading them into the palace.
Inside, cool marble floors echoed with footfalls, and the air held the scent of lemon oil. Grand halls with frescoed ceilings depicted ancient victories and heavenly scenes—slowly began to fade like memories.
Gilt mirrors lined the walls, reflecting light from tall candelabras. Velvet drapes hung heavy over windows and doorways, some moth-eaten but still rich with colour—emerald, crimson, sapphire.
The war had drained many resources from the coffers of everyone, noble and commoner alike. To maintain such a magnificent palace, it would take a lot of time and money, neither of which Duke Sozzini had at the moment. His time on this earth was fading; he was nearing the end of his life, and as such, his money and other resources were devoted to his nephew and his son.
Victor and his companions were shown to a lounge where Prince Alphonse and his cousin Luca Sozzini awaited them.
Prince Alphonse was a lanky man with short, dark black hair and emerald eyes that were almost entrancing. His cousin shared his looks with the only difference being in height and having hazel eyes.
Luca welcomed the foreigners to his home, while speaking Zandarian. "Welcome to my home, King Victor. It is an honour to have you here. I am Luca Sozzini, heir to the Sozzini Dukedom. When Matteo said you were going to lead your army, both my cousin and I were truly impressed that you would make such an effort for us."
Victor did not need a translator and replied, "Thank you, Sir Luca. When we are finished here, I would like to pay my respects to your father. I hear he is not well." Luca appreciated Victor's kindness and respect.
Prince Alphonse stepped forward and put out his hand. "Thank you for coming, King Victor. Although my daughter was a bit generous in her terms, I will fully guarantee them once the war is over. It will be a pleasure to have you fighting alongside us."
Victor shook Alphonse's hand and replied, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Alphonse. Your daughter is truly remarkable. My son also believes this and is truly smitten with her… I know the feeling of treacherous half-siblings, so when you came to me for aid, I was inclined to help."
Alphonse smiled and gestured for everyone to be seated, and began to speak. "Now that your army is here, our victory is almost garunteed. We have heard much of your army's exploits. Your recent campaign in Simbar was a prime example of their quality. Even during your time as a Grand Duke, we have heard many interesting reports about your tactics and the ability of your soldiers."
Victor smiled and said, "I appreciate the kind words, my men are valiant soldiers. But we must not be too arrogant. Your brother could have a few hiddens tricks up his sleeve, underestimating him would be our downfall."
Alphonse and Luca nodded, it was wise not to think that this war would be easily won.