Art rode into Wendereight with Lands Lord on his on steed beside hers. From the moment the pair entered visuals of the city's inhabitants, she immediately sensed hundreds of gazes rest on their shoulders. Not surprising, considering that a Knight of the Round - sworn protectors of the Consolidate - and a lizardkin - the great traitors of the first war - coming into town together was unusual to say the absolute least.

But continue to look they could not help. Elves and humes, the long life races of Tearha, watched with contempt and distrust. They remember The Great Betrayal. Their children less so, with eyes of long-taught fear and maybe wonder. Humans and drakins, the shorter lived, had recorded more in their books than passed down by words. Their eyes were curious, and their lips muttered explanations that would likely be nowhere near the truth.

Whatever the case, whatever their feelings, none approached. Or more accurately, none approached her. They probably thought she had it under control. She was, after all, Artria Pendragon. But if given a chance, she was sure they would have mobbed Lands Lord.

But where were the city guards? Where were the soldiers on patrol? While nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the lack of defensive personnel did not sit well within her.

They continued their journey deeper into the city, drawing more stares.

With each horse hoof of distance travelled. The noise that bustled the city before them turned into quiet murmurs behind, before transforming back into an even louder tumult as news spread.

‟Stay close to me,” Art told Lands Lord. ‟There are people with far more hatred of you than I do.”

Despite all the animosity, Lands Lord looked to be admiring his surrounding. There was something almost akin to childlike wonder in his eyes.

Art asked, ‟What is it?”

The lizardkin replied, ‟I have never come thisss near a large settlement before. It isss a wonder what people can build when together.”

‟Does the forest not surround the cities of Lutvvin?”

‟Our tribe only ever travelled the outskirtsss, and never passss Aitery. There are talesss of our kin from other tribesss being hunted and killed.”

A pinch of pity overrode Art's heart for a moment. But before she could explore that line, a squad of 12 guards finally approached them as they neared the inner city, fully armed with swords and bows. One held a pike at the ready in-case their horses charged at them.

Art and Lands Lord came to a stop and a man stepped up to them, the captain of the group of guards judging by his insignia. His sword was sheathed calmly at his side.

The man saluted. ‟Lae Artria Pendragon. I am Captain Gregoria Lankenshur.” He lowered his saluting arm and his tone of respect turned into one of business. ‟Mind if I ask why you have brought a snake into the city? Aren't they all dead?”

‟Captain,” Atria greeted. ‟There are diplomatic circumstances surrounding this one.” She gestured to Lands Lord. ‟He's to be escorted to see the queen, then the Council.”

Captain Gregoria placed a hand on his head, gave groan, and massaged his temple. ‟I'm not sure if you're lucky or not. The Council is at the keep right now.”

Art raised questioning brow. ‟The Council is here? That's rare of them, travelling away from The Summit.”

‟Have you not heard the news, Lae Pendragon?”

‟News?” She was genuinely surprised. She had been gone, but not for that long a period. ‟I've been away on a mission. What happened?”

‟It's the Janus, ma'am. She's dead.”

Now that news shocked her. The Consolidate was governed by 3 bodies of power. The Queen or King, who acted as the country's leader on the world stage, organiser of the treasury, and the commander of the Knights of the Round, the most powerful of the military forces; The Council, made up of selected citizen officials, in charge of the large main army and responsible for the day-to-day functions of the country; and The Janus, a seer whose powers of prediction were inherited, acting as the general strategist of the country and in-charge of its direction.

The latter, Clotho Hari Janus, had in the previous year gone rogue and schemed an attack on the neighbouring Rubicum. The Alliance had arrested her after and kept her imprisoned as a war criminal and political prisoner while her wounds were treated by the more medically advance Aleynonlia.

Captain Gregoria continued, ‟It seemed she died of medical complications while in captivity. The country is in confusion right now.”

‟Has a new Janus not shown themselves?”

‟That's the thing. For some reason, the power was not inherited. The Council and the Queen are meeting to discuss the next step. That's all I've been briefed on.”

Art worried. It would explain the bandits on the road. With one of the three body of powers gone, security would have turned inwards to secure what's left of their government. Patrols would be reduced to necessary routes and within cities. But whatever the case, she knew where she needed the to go.

‟I must hasten to the Queen,” Art announced. ‟I should be by her side.”

The guard captain saluted. ‟We will be honoured to escort you there. But what about...” The man's gaze lingered on Lands Lord.

She had almost forgotten the lizardkin was with her. He had stayed quietly behind her, patiently waiting for their move and listening to the update with another of his inscrutable expression. But finally, he interjected when his presence was brought up.

‟I am at your mercccy,” he hissed. ‟Though I would like to expedite my diplomatic misssion, I am willing to follow your schedule, given the exxxtenuating circumstancesss.”

Art took a breath to collect herself. Her gaze lingered on Lands Lord, unsure for a moment if she should abandon him there. Surely, killing him and ending the entire journey would rid her of all her problem. She shook that idea out of her head.

‟He's with me,” Art clarified. ‟He'll follow us back to the keep.”

The guard captain agreed. And with shouts to his men, they formed a perimeter around to two. Together, the convoy began moving nearer towards the centre of Wenderreight, though much slower with their guards on foot. This time, even more eyes were now on them, not just because of the make-up of the party, but the size. They were akin to a parade, travelling through the city.

As they approached the keep, she could see the guards on the towers and walls fumble at the sight of them. The defenders began rushing to their station. Before the party even reached the gates, it had opened, and an armoured clad man stood before them. Behind him were another dozen soldiers, chained in mails and holding onto spears and shields. Archers on the walls had crossbows loaded and aimed down at them, and the city guards gave a nervous twitch. The guard captain moved aside to let Art step up to make contact.

‟Lae Pendragon,” the keep guard officer greeted. ‟What is the meaning of this?”

The knight and Lands Lord were now surrounded by guards. The security was a lot tighter than usual, and in the keep's courtyard, she could see members of The Council's guard details with hands on their weapon, ready to intervene. Tension was high, and the situation started to look far more complex than at first glance.

She announced, ‟I have brought back a lizardkin from a surviving tribe. Bring him to the dungeon! The queen will interrogate him personally!”

There was silence in the surrounding party as if noise had disappeared from the world. Then, Lands Lord said in a muttered tone of confusion.

‟What?”