The wind of the Gray Sea stirred the insignia on the main sail of the *Sea Siren's Song*.
Caroline stood at the bow, her hand resting on the railing, the sea breeze making her dress snap and flutter.
Behind her, the atmosphere throughout the entire fleet was tense.
Sailors checked the winches of the ballistae again and again. Fully armed Knights silently polished their Longswords. The chief Mage advisor's forehead was beaded with sweat.
"Miss, we're thirty nautical miles from Minas Tirith." The captain approached her, his voice low. "Magic detection shows everything is normal, but... it's too quiet."
"Maintain high alert," Caroline said without turning back. "Velin's letter said the enemy is capable of destroying a port city. This quiet might just be the prelude to a storm."
The first mate silently withdrew.
Caroline herself couldn't be sure of what she would face on this trip.
