Ella Vance, sworn sword of House Vance and personal guard to the prince, rode at his side as they neared the king’s wood. This was the age after dragons, after fire and ruin, when King Aegon III ruled a quieter realm and sought pageantry in hunts rather than wings in the sky. Ella kept her hand steady on the reins of her destrier, ever mindful of her duty, though the long days in the prince’s company had begun to weigh on her in ways she did not name aloud.

They had arrived days late, their small retinue delayed by weather and road, and the forest ahead was already alive with sound. Horn calls echoed between the trees, banners stirred in the breeze, and the encampment sprawled beneath the canopy, lords, knights, and courtiers gathered for the king’s hunt, a reminder that the realm still knew how to celebrate.

As they rode closer, Ella took in the sight with a practiced eye, then looked once more to the prince before forcing her gaze forward.