The first carriage arrived just before noon.
It rolled onto the grounds without announcement, but it did not need one. The moment it stopped, attention followed it naturally, as though the space itself had been waiting for that exact point of interruption.
I stood near the edge of the field, not hidden, not placed at the center, but positioned where I could see everything without being immediately surrounded by it.
Eliot remained a step behind me, quiet as ever.
"They've started," he said.
"They were always going to."
The carriage door opened.
Lord Charles stepped down first, his posture as steady as his expression. He did not look around immediately. He allowed the moment to settle, as though the ground itself needed to recognize him before he chose to acknowledge it.
Only then did his gaze move.
It found the field first.
Then me.
He walked forward without waiting for anyone else to accompany him, stopping at a distance that was neither formal nor casual.
