Aturs, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 32nd day of Fall, Arenfall
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Lord Prestonheim looked pale under the brightly lit torches radiating in the camp. Adaloun could see the wrinkles of his long and tired face as he stood proudly at the end of the isle. The well-dressed raven-haired knight cleared his throat once again.
"Presenting to you, his Majesty, Prince Arterius. The firstborn, heir to the throne of the Principalia and his people." The well-dressed knight knelt in one knee and bowed his head as the prince descended from the carriage.
For some reason, Adaloun's hearted pumped erratically in anticipation of the prince's reveal. The carriage moved as it shifted its weight. He could see from the distance a small-statured man exiting the carriage.