The carriage rolled to a smooth stop at the base of the grand palace steps.
Sunlight glinted off the marble pillars that framed the entrance, and guards stood at attention in polished armor, their faces expressionless behind crested helms.
Noah stepped down from the carriage, adjusting his gloves as his boots met the ground.
Almost immediately, an attendant in a neat black uniform approached, bowing slightly.
"Sir Noah Webb, from the Royal Academy?" the man asked.
"That's right," Noah replied.
"This way, please."
He followed the attendant through the palace corridors, the echo of their footsteps bouncing softly off the gilded walls.
Everywhere he looked, there were reminders of Camelot's power, with murals of the old kings, giant stained glass windows, and banners embroidered with the Pendragon crest.
The hall they entered was enormous, though not yet filled.
