The courier eagle landed in the governor's mansion courtyard close to midnight, panting, its blue-silver feathers wet with dew. The Tamer riding it, the same young courier from Quiet Bay, nearly fell from the saddle as he jumped down.
"Report from the northern lookout post!" he cried hoarsely to the gate guard. "A huge convoy is moving south! Twelve mana-crystal ships, over two hundred wyverns, and mages beyond counting! The banners of the Noble Council's Guard Legion!"
Within minutes, the news reached Celes's ears, then Sylvia's, then Zhaoyue's. There was no panic in the governor's mansion. Sylvia merely listened to the report while sipping warm tea in the dining room, with Noir asleep in her shadow.
"Twelve ships," Sylvia repeated. "Yet Mo Lan said seven days."
"Perhaps the Second Prince was impatient," Celes answered without expression. "Or perhaps Mo Lan deliberately gave a false deadline."
