Grey Rock Fort, Upper City, Balcony Garden.
The air in late spring is fresh, the flora in full bloom, neatly trimmed rose walls laden with pale pink buds, and the fountain on the lawn gently emits a mist.
In the distance, the sounds of birds and hooves can be heard, the entire upper city like a peaceful painting.
Duke Spencer Raymond stands at the center of the garden.
His deep blue, gold-trimmed suit is spotless, the golden threads glinting in the sunlight, the collar as white as snow.
He stands with a straight posture, his smile tempered and gentle, as if no act of discourtesy could exist in his presence.
Today, Grey Rock Fort is hosting a charity ceremony.
Noblewomen, guild representatives, and maidservants surround him, long tables set up in the courtyard, laden with bread and warm soup.
Raymond raises a silver cup, saying warmly to everyone, "Let them remember, Grey Rock not only possesses great power, but also warmth."
Applause ensues.
