Except for one man, a mop of gray hair resting on his head so precariously it looked as though any errant gust of wind might blow it off. He approached, salt-and-pepper mustache twitching. He grasped a set of reins attached to a white, speckled mare. “This is my horse. Her name’s Lenora. Wouldn’t sell her for any price though, not even a hundred gold. She’s a part of my family, you see.”

“Then can I borrow her? I will return her in a few days with a reward for your kindness.”

The man eyed him, looking him up and down as if trying to get the measure of the young man he was dealing with. “Are you really Crown Prince Tomas?”

“I know you have no reason to believe me given my appearance, but yes, I am. I recently journeyed up the river…”

“I saw a large boat pass this way a few days ago. That was you?”

Tomas nodded. “We encountered…some problems. And now here I am, trying to return to the palace.”

The man searched his face, as though trying to see past the grime and dust from the trail. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Well, I, I never, why are you…” He trailed off, blinking furiously before dipping into an awkward but well-intentioned bow. “Your Highness, Lenora is at your service for as long as you may need her.”

“Rise,” Tomas said, feeling slightly embarrassed at the man’s reaction. “Thank you, my good man, your service to the crown and realm will not be soon forgotten.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The man stared at his own feet as he handed Tomas the reins and a small bag of feed. “May the Five smile upon your journey.”

“And may the Sculptor shape fortune into your life,” Tomas responded, feeling energized as he mounted up. Digging his heels into the beast’s sides, he snapped the reins and was off, the wind instantly filling his knotty hair.

Tomas’s heart leapt as the spires of Marchessault bloomed in the distance like flowers pushing toward sunlight. The steed he’d borrowed from the kindly man had proven to be faithful, tireless, and good-spirited. She’d also cut the remainder of his journey into a fraction of the time it would’ve required on foot.

Now, she made short work of the series of rolling hills that led to the capital, a spring in her step as though she also sensed an end to their journey. Between the walls they galloped, cobblestones rattling under her horseshoes. The city’s streets were busy, as they always were this time of day, but Lenora was as agile as she was quick, dodging carts and other beasts of burden as she passed through the outskirts to the densely populated city center, until they reached the palace gates. They stood open, but several guards crossed their swords to block the way forward.