Chapter 17: The Envoy With No Shadow
The carriage came just past midday, cloaked in wind and dust.
No fanfare. No escort. No herald bearing crests or scrolls.
Just a dark-lacquered frame pulled by pale, sweating horses and flanked by two quiet riders in the black and green of House Halrid. A third figure sat in the driver's seat, but never once looked toward the gates as they opened.
Leon watched from the stone path, arms bare, training sweat still cooling across his shoulders. He hadn't dressed for diplomacy.
He didn't care.
If they were here to inspect his home, they could see it as it was — half-restored, worn at the edges, rebuilt by calluses instead of coin.
The carriage slowed. One of the riders dismounted with casual ease and opened the door.
The first to step out was the knight.
Tall, no older than twenty, face hard with quiet discipline. He wore layered red-gold plate, etched with House Halrid's lion sigil. His helm stayed under one arm. Eyes sharp. He didn't look at Leon. Not yet.
A second figure stepped out after him — a woman in ceremonial mage robes, hooded and masked in polished bone-white, her staff carried across her back.
No symbols. No colors. Just white, as if the Order had sent her without allegiance.