Chapter 159: Real and Fake
In the courtyard of the Lothian’s Summer Villa, Samira stood next to the captain of the guard, her heart hammering in her chest while she watched a mighty procession wind its way up the road toward the villa.
Weeks ago, when Owain brought her here, she had thought it was a marvelous trip with two dozen soldiers, more than a dozen servants, and three knights. She’d never in her life been part of such a grand event.
Now, seeing the arrival of Jocelynn Blackwell, she couldn’t help but laugh at herself for feeling like she’d been treated like a genuine noblewoman. Counting the banners, there were more than ten knights in the procession approaching the Summer Villa. Some of them she recognized but others bore the personal emblems of knights from far away Blackwell County.
In addition to the knights, she counted at least six armored templars riding under the banner of the Holy Lord of Light, and one of the carriages flew the red and gold banner of the Inquisition.
All of this would have been impressive enough, but the armored knights and ornate carriages were only the beginning of the procession. Nearly twenty wagons stretched behind the carriages. Some were loaded high with crate after crate of supplies and personal belongings while others were filled with dozens of servants and attendants coming to take up any number of responsibilities in the Summer Villa.
Bringing up the rear of the winding column, Samira couldn’t begin to count the number of armored soldiers marching in neat rows four men abreast but she estimated it at more than a hundred men.
In comparison, her own arrival suddenly felt like she had snuck out of Lothian City in the hopes that no one would pay much attention to her. The arrival of so many important people put incredible pressure on her. Sweat beaded between her shoulder blades and she clutched at her skirts with hand that had grown damp as she felt the pressure increasing.
With an event as important as this, she’d dressed in her best dress, a deep ocean blue that she paired with a necklace of pearls that seemed to be the most expensive piece of jewelry in Ashlynn Blackwell’s collection. She wore her blonde hair in a loose braid and kept her makeup simple as Owain had told her repeatedly that Ashlynn rarely bothered to paint herself up.
When the carriages finally arrived, she had to hold herself back from rushing forward to greet Owain as he exited the carriage. Under the light of the midday sun, Owain seemed to almost glow in the light that reflected off of his crisp white tunic and soft flowing chestnut hair. When he turned back to the carriage, his handsome face wore a smile that seemed brighter than the sun as he extended a hand to the woman within.