The great wooden gates of the capital groaned as they slowly swung open, the hinges of the gate creaking with its weight.
Shahab Filastin rode forward, his grey hair blowing wildly in the strong wind, his weathered face set in a scowl of clear displeasure. His sharp eyes flicked toward the walls, taking in the sight of Alpheo's men holding the posts, and the anger in his expression deepened. No doubt, he was incensed that his army of 200 had been denied entry into the castle, and he was allowed just a token of bodyguards.
He would have put the city under siege if it weren't for the appearance of his own blood.
Despite his irritation, as Shahab spotted his daughter and granddaughter, his demeanor softened. Without hesitation, he dismounted, his boots hitting the ground with a solid thud. His steps quickened as he approached the two, his outstretched arms beckoning them toward him.
