Following Margit’s instructions, Marigold soon found themselves being taken to the Leyndell palace by a tree sentinel. They were nervous, to say the least. They’ve never encountered royalty before. What if they say or do the wrong thing? What if the Grace-Given Monarch wouldn’t take them in? They wished Margit were with them, but they understood the Omen was a busy being.
Nervousness ate away at them.
The sentinel was quiet the whole way. Keeping the child seated in front, the golden-armored knight rode through the capital of Leyndell, glorious even in it's state of disarray.
Indeed. The Shattering had taken it's toll on many... Imps watched from the rooftops, eying the tree sentinal as he rode through the streets, but dared not move from their perches. Perfumers worked tirelessly to tend the sick and wounded. Some were too far gone. Yet still, they did what they could to ease their suffering.
Yet the Erdtree stood tall, and magnificent as ever... A beacon of hope during trying times. And at the foot of the tree, the white-gold palace of the absent queen.
And the Grace-Given monarch remained as tireless as ever, to ensure that the city was contented... A task that was easier said than done.
True to his title, the veiled monarch concealed his face with an intricately woven veil that rested upon his head. At first glance, one could have easily mistaken him for a man of the cloth, for he was clad only in simple cloth robes.
