When the gates of Valkoron came into sight, Aurelia's hands tightened on the edge of the carriage seat until her knuckles whitened. Her stomach twisted into knots.
For all her courage and the quiet resolve she had tried to nurture on the road, the sight of those black, towering gates shook her.
She knew Valerian's family might not welcome her kindly. Why would they? She was cursed, deformed, and....at least to them...ugly.
Outside, Valerian rode ahead on his great warhorse, his storm banner rippling behind him, the retinue of armored knights following in precise formation.
The air itself seemed to shift with his presence. When the soldiers stationed at the gates saw their lord approach, they shouted the call and signaled to the walls.
A horn's low bellow resounded across the valley, announcing to all that the Storm Lord had returned.
The iron-bound gates creaked open, massive chains groaning, and Valerian pressed forward into the city he ruled.
