At the break of dawn, when the sky was still painted in soft hues of grey and gold, the heavy gates of the castle were slowly pulled open. Their iron hinges groaned under the strain, the sound echoing faintly through the quiet morning air. One after the other, three grand carriages rolled out, their wheels crunching against the gravel as the horses pulled them forward with steady strength.
Behind them, a line of maids followed in careful formation, their heads slightly bowed, their pace quick enough to keep up but measured enough to maintain order. The early morning breeze tugged gently at their garments, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and stone.
Not too far from the gates stood Queen Maye.
