Queen Ellaria's carriage arrived at the Adventurer's Guild just before midnight.
The building loomed before her, its stone facade lit by flickering torches that cast more shadows than light.
She could feel the eyes of the guards on her, even through the dark glass of the carriage windows.
No doubt they were wondering what business a high-end lady had here, especially at such an ungodly hour.
But Ellaria paid them no mind. She had more important matters to attend to.
As the carriage door opened, a liveried footman offered her his hand. She took it gracefully, stepping down onto the cobblestones with practiced poise as its costume or maybe not.
Truth be told, as much as one sees, a lady's hand is always held by someone when she walks out of the carriage.
The guildmaster himself stood waiting at the top of the broad stone steps, a look of confusion mixed with concern on his aged face.
"Your Majesty," he said with a low bow knowing her identity as the Queen.
