The sun was setting once more by the time they rode into Isleya. The city spread out before them like an ant's nest: a large cluster of buildings and houses surrounded by open fields with a market in its centre drawing the attention of the crowd. Isleya was more than three times the size of Teu, with wide streets, decorated fountains, and a large arena for sports and entertainment. Ren had visited the city with his family on more than one occasion. The decennial grand horse race hosted in Isleya drew crowds from all over Frayne and the south-eastern nations. Ren had been sixteen the last time it was held, a youth full of energy and wonder. The race had seemed like the world's greatest event and the attention he had received had left him floating for days.

Now, as they rode their horses through the busy streets, the hood of Ren's jacket covering half his face, no one spared them a glance. No giggling young men and women threw flowers and called out his name, no merchants and travellers nodded their heads at him in respect. Instead, Ren was left to weave his way through a crowd of people who were much too busy with their daily tasks and chores to pay him any attention. It had been like this in Teu, but the effect seemed somehow amplified in a city as large and busy as Isleya. Even here, gold and white ribbons billowed from flag poles all along the widest roads in honour of the crown prince's birthday. To Ren, the bright strips of fabric were nothing but a grim and mocking reminder.

Ren knew it was risky to come here, but they desperately needed supplies for their journey. Besides, it had been several years since Ren had last visited. If he kept his head down, he'd be okay. Probably. No one would expect a prince to ride alone and unannounced.

The inn was close to the market. Twice the size of the one in Teu and newly renovated, it was crowded with people singing and dancing and farmers enjoying their dinner. As Ren accepted the key to their room, a group of men and women playing cards burst into cheers and laughter. It struck Ren that none of them had any idea of the horrors that had turned the fate of their country upside down just a few days earlier. It felt almost like an insult that these people could smile and dance when their beloved crown prince was lying still and cold in the soil. Ren hadn't even been able to attend his funeral.

“It's all a bit too much if you ask me.” One man's rough voice carried over the other patrons'. “How much fucking gold and silk does one spoiled brat need? I wonder how long it takes before they run out of gift ideas. What do you even give a prince who already owns a thousand horses and three-hundred holes to fuck?”