By midday, Babylon's manor appeared beyond the rising land.
Old stone walls surrounded the estate, patched in several places and darker than Luka remembered. Smoke rose from the kitchens. Servants moved through the yard. Knights stood near the entrance in cleaner armour than expected.
And beneath the manor's front arch stood Ironhold's banners.
Deep blue cloth.
Silver trim.
A black tower marked upon a mountain.
Beside them, wagons were being unloaded.
Crates of grain.
Barrels of medicine.
Bundles of treated leather.
Several women in healer robes guided the servants toward the side hall; despite speaking briskly, they didn't treat them badly.
Luka slowed Furia.
"So she really came to help."
Galatea froze on her horse with an ugly expression.
"Why... this isn't how it should be..."
Her expression was so strange that even Luvia didn't mock or make fun of her.
Luka wanted to speak, but the manor doors opened slowly, before something slammed them open and rushed out.
