The moment we halt our horses in the grand courtyard of the Morvian estate, the personal guards instantly drop to one knee, their voices ringing out over the sound of the rain. "Glory to His Highness the Crown Prince, Her Imperial Consort, and Her Highness the Princess!"
Elena gives a crisp wave of her hand to put them at ease. Without even waiting for a butler to go and announce us, the three of us march straight inside, dripping only a minimal amount of water thanks to Varkas and Ravok's swiftness.
When we enter the massive, opulently decorated living area, Trade Lord Morvian is sitting comfortably on a velvet couch, casually sipping from a porcelain teacup.
The exact microsecond his eyes lock onto the three of us, he violently chokes on his tea.
Coughing splutteringly, he abruptly scrambles to his feet, nearly dropping his expensive porcelain. "G-Glory to the Crown Prince, His Highness! Your Imperial Consort! Your Highness!"
