The remaining ride to the palace was buried in a heavy, stifling silence. The carriage eventually passed through the massive iron gates, the wheels echoing against the stone before coming to a sharp halt near the main entrance.
Outside, rows of soldiers stood in perfect, frozen lines. As the doors opened, Alistair and Asarmose stepped down, their combined presence drawing every eye. They headed up the grand staircase, a trail of attendants following closely at their backs like a shadow.
"There is one more chore," Alistair said, his voice echoing in the vaulted hallway. "It is tradition to greet the elders of the Council before the wedding night."
Asarmose adjusted the gold pectoral on his chest, his eyes narrowed. "And why were these elders not present during the banquet? If they are so important, why hide?"
