Free Web NovelChapter 103: Reaching the Skargardian Capital
"Esther, wake up."
Inside the swaying cabin of the carriage, Hermione called softly, gently nudging her younger sister, whose head rested against her shoulder.
When the first grey light of dawn broke over the tree line, Ulrich had dismantled the camp and ordered them back onto the road. The objective was to breach the capital gates while the morning was still fresh. Despite the early hour, the overnight rest had worked perfectly. They had consumed a hot breakfast, washed in cold water, and packed their belongings without the crushing nausea that had dominated the previous afternoon. Aside from the natural drowsiness that comes with an early start, all three sisters looked healthy.
"Mmh..." Esther mumbled, the sound barely echoing over the clatter of the iron wheels on the stone road. Her eyelids fluttered. Because she sat directly beside the glass, the harsh brightness of the morning sun instantly flooded her vision.
She snapped her eyes open, blinking rapidly against the glare. "Have we arrived?"
"Not yet," Hermione replied, adjusting the woolen blanket draped over their laps. "But soon."
"In an hour," Ulrich said from the opposite bench, reminding them.
He sat perfectly upright. Despite having spent the entire night maintaining a conscious vigil over the perimeter, he showed no physical signs of fatigue. He was currently reading a book, as always.
Esther rubbed her eyes and caught the glare Airam was currently leveling at Ulrich.
"What is it, eldest sister?" Esther asked, her voice raspy from sleep.
"Nothing," Airam replied.
It was definitively not nothing. Airam harbored resentment over the forced sleep spell Ulrich had used the previous night. She had slept, but her mind had immediately plunged into the very nightmare sequence she had been trying to avoid. She had spent the entire morning staring holes into Ulrich’s chest, waiting for an apology or an explanation that clearly wasn’t coming.
Esther lacked the energy to pry into the silent conflict. She yawned widely and shifted her attention to the cracked window, peering through the gap in the curtains. freewebnøvel.com
The environment had shifted a lot. The neglected dirt tracks of the borderlands were gone. The carriage currently glided over massive, interlocking slabs of granite, proving the wealth funneled into the arteries leading to the royal capital.
But the pristine condition of the road was not what caught Esther’s attention. The isolation of the previous day had vanished. The highway was choked with traffic. Dozens of other carriages, merchant wagons, and armored riders shared the route. However, compared to the sprawling, crimson-upholstered wood bearing the Rubenhart crest, the surrounding vehicles looked small and inadequate.
Curious onlookers lined the shoulders of the road, staring openly at the Rubenhart knights escort and the opulent carriage.
Esther leaned closer to the glass, squinting through the curtain to get a better look at a passing merchant cart. She found herself staring directly into the deeply wrinkled, soot-stained face of a grumpy old man with a massive, unkempt grey beard, who was looking right back at her.
"Eeek!" Esther yelped, throwing herself backward and yanking the curtain shut.
"Geez, Esther," Hermione giggled.
Esther’s face burned scarlet. She slumped back against the plush cushions, ashamed. She cut a hesitant glance toward Ulrich. He had definitely heard the shriek, but he did not look up from the pages of his book, opting to ignore the outburst.
Esther exhaled a long, shaky breath and leaned her head back against Hermione’s shoulder. "I am feeling extremely nervous, big sister."
Hermione squeezed her hand, projecting a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. "You shouldn’t be. When you strip away all the ridiculous pageantry, it is just a birthday party." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
"Is that so..." Esther mumbled.
Framing the most vital political gathering of the decade as a simple birthday celebration felt like a huge oversimplification, but the context did help settle the lump in her stomach.
"We have learned the etiquette," Hermione reminded her. "We know how to curtsy, how to address the high nobility, and which fork to use for the courses. You do not have to feel nervous. Just apply everything the tutors drilled into us."
"Right," Esther nodded, her expression hardening into determination. "Right."
She peeked over at Airam. Her eldest sister sat with her arms crossed, the perfect picture of composure. Even Hermione couldn’t entirely mask the nervous tremor in her hands, but Airam looked completely unbothered by the looming threat of the royal court.
The sight acted as a powerful anchor. Esther drew a deep breath, her anxiety receding. She would not be facing the central nobility alone. She had her two elder sisters thankfully by her side.
And, more importantly, there was Ulrich.
Esther glances at the Count, watching him turn the page of his book with unshakable calm as the massive stone walls of the capital finally bleed into view on the horizon.
Finally, less than an hour later, the architecture of the Skargardian Royal Capital dominated the horizon.
The sprawling city was protected by a towering, fifty-foot wall constructed of fitted white limestone. Thick iron portcullises guarded the main entrances, where hundreds of merchant wagons, traveling caravans, and pedestrian travelers clustered in chaotic, slow-moving lines, waiting for the city guard to inspect their cargo and collect entry tolls.
The Rubenhart convoy did not join the stagnant, dust-choked queues.
Ulrich held the title of Count, positioning him within the upper echelons of the kingdom’s high nobility. He commanded privileges that bypassed the trivial bureaucracy of the commoners. Hendrick guided his horse to the far left of the main thoroughfare, directing the carriages down a paved, guarded avenue reserved exclusively for aristocratic travel and royal couriers.
The elite gate guards recognized the crimson Rubenhart crest emblazoned on the carriage doors immediately. They snapped to attention, driving their halberds into the paving stones in a synchronized salute. The iron gates winched upward with a deafening, metallic groan, and the convoy rolled straight into the heart of the capital without a single word of inquiry or a moment of delay.
"Wow..." Esther breathed out, unable to hide her shock. She pressed her face close to the glass, pulling the curtain back just enough to secure a clear line of sight.
Across the cabin, Airam mirrored the action, her usual stoicism fracturing slightly as she leaned toward her own window to observe the city.
The Skargardian Royal Capital was an overwhelming assault on the senses. The sheer scale of the infrastructure dwarfed the provincial layout of New Ruben. The buildings here were not simple wooden structures; they were towering, multi-story manors constructed of pale stone, featuring iron-wrought balconies and steep, slate-shingled roofs. The streets were immaculately clean, paved with interlocking geometric stones that formed a sprawling mosaic beneath the carriage wheels.
The avenues were densely packed. A vibrant current of people flowed through the wide streets. Esther watched wealthy merchants in doublets haggling loudly with street vendors selling exotic, brightly colored silks. Armored city patrols marched in tight formations, their breastplates reflecting the harsh morning sun. The noise was constant, as an overlapping roar of thousands of overlapping conversations.
Despite the overwhelming number of people, the entrance district felt highly curated. Every storefront boasted fresh paint, and elaborate flower boxes hung from the iron lampposts. The Crown clearly ensured that the immediate entry zones presented a flawless image to any visiting foreign dignitaries or outer-territory lords arriving for the princess’s celebration.
Esther watches a group of street performers breathing fire on a street corner, her eyes wide with unblinking fascination as the carriage rolls deeper into the wealthy districts.
For the three sisters, observing the dense capital felt exactly like stepping through a portal into another world. They had never seen so many humans concentrated in a single location, nor had they ever witnessed such delicate architecture.
"Pull the curtains," Ulrich said shortly.
The main avenues were too congested. Exposing them to the thousands of unvetted civilians crowding the sidewalks presented a small vulnerability he wasn’t willing to take.
Esther gasped and yanked the curtain fabric shut.
Airam, however, remained completely absorbed. She kept her dark eyes locked on the multi-tiered marketplace outside.
Ulrich reached across the cabin, his hand catching the edge of the fabric. He dragged the curtain shut with a sharp pull, sealing the carriage off from the street.
Airam snapped her head back, shooting a scowl directly at Ulrich’s face. He met her glare with total indifference, releasing the fabric and settling back.
Hermione, on the other smiled toward her eldest sister. "It is really different from—"
She started the sentence without thinking, but her mouth snapped shut before finishing.
Airam glanced at Hermione and gave a subtle shake of her head. She leaned back against the leather seat, crossing her arms and waited in silence.
The carriage rolled through the dense traffic for another half hour. Gradually, the chaotic roar of the merchants and the clatter of armored patrols faded. The wheels transitioned from the rougher cobblestone of the commercial sector onto the perfectly smooth flagstones of a private avenue explicitly zoned for the kingdom’s wealthiest aristocratic families.
"Aren’t we going to the castle?" Hermione asked, noticing the shift in the surrounding architecture as they pulled away from the towering spires of the royal palace visible in the distance.
Ulrich raised his eyes from his book. "Did you think you would be allowed to reside inside the royal castle?"
"T—Then where are we going?" Hermione shot back, embarrassed. "Not a public inn, I expect!"
"Big sister, you are acting completely spoiled once again," Esther giggled.
"I am just worried about logistics!" Hermione replied, twisting in her seat to look anxiously through the small rear window toward the trailing vehicle. "The other carriage is following closely, correct? Our formal gowns and the jewelry cases are stored inside."
Airam stared at her. "You only think about wearing that uselessly heavy gown and displaying those jewels, Hermione."
"That is exactly why we purchased them, Airam!" Hermione retorted, her face flushing.
"You are projecting," Airam replied. "And you are currently more nervous than Esther."
"I am not!"
"Silence."
Ulrich cut off the escalating argument with a single word.
Hermione clamped her mouth shut immediately, her cheeks burning red.
The carriage rolled for a few more minutes before the grinding of the wheels slowed, transitioning into a smooth halt.
"We have arrived, My Lord."
Hendrick’s voice echoed outside just before the door swung open.
Ulrich stepped out of the cabin first.
Airam, Hermione, and Esther crowded the open doorway, peering past the curtains. They stared in surprise. The carriages had not parked in front of a busy inn or a cramped noble hostel. They were idling within a massive, iron-gated courtyard, directly in front of a beautiful three-story mansion constructed of pale marble.
"W—Whose place is that?" Hermione asked, her voice stuttering slightly as she took in the towering stone columns and the oak double doors.
Hendrick looked up at the carriage, a faint, amused smile curling his lips. "It is the private domicile owned by the Rubenhart House here in the capital, Lady Hermione."
