“Oh, look at that,” I say, pointing toward the golden palace gates and the guards standing at attention. “We’ve arrived. I should hurry up and find the lord who requested this sword.”

Waving my hand clutched around the red scabbard in a kind of awkward farewell, I slowly turn away and rapidly depart, praying that Bree won't follow me. I don’t think the palace guards would let her in anyhow.

Not looking back, I rush toward the palace, hoping I’ll be let in without any problems.

As I get closer, I'm in awe at the royal guards in full regalia. Ornate armors gleam in the sunlight, the likes of which I have never seen before. Intricate designs decorate their helmets, and the hilts of their swords are encrusted with gems.

They seem to take pride in their position as decorative elements rather than actual security. In my book, flaunting grandeur and prestige to impress is not necessary when your purpose is to serve and protect.

As I approach, one of the guards glances at me without shifti