The iron-reinforced wheels of the carriage ground to a halt against pristine, freshly fallen snow.
Beyond the carriage window, the oppressive, shadowed walls of the Whispering Pass opened into a vast, sun-drenched plateau. High upon the peak stood the Shrine of Solis—a towering, ancient structure of white marble and gilded arches, its spires catching the morning light and casting long, brilliant rays across the mountain valley.
Cassian stepped down from the carriage onto the crisp snow. The crisp, clean mountain air, untainted by the metallic tang of blood from the gorge below, rushed into his lungs. And behind him, the Crimson Vanguard dismounted in flawless unison, their heavy iron greaves crunching against the snow as they formed two disciplined flanks around their commander.
Standing at the base of the shrine's grand marble staircase stood an elderly man wrapped in heavy, gold-embroidered white vestments. A polished cedar staff rested in his hand, topped with a glowing sunstone crystal that hummed with pure, gentle light.
High Priest Thaddeus.
The old man's eyes, weathered by decades of devotion, watched the approaching unit. There was no fear in his gaze as he took in the sight of sixty blood-red cloaks against the white snow—only a deep, ancient reverence.
As Cassian reached the bottom of the steps, Thaddeus lowered his staff and bowed his head deeply.
"Crown Prince Cassian,"
Thaddeus spoke, his voice rich and clear like a ringing bell.
"The heavens foretold a storm along the mountain roads today, yet the light of your presence arrives unblemished."
"High Priest Thaddeus,"
Cassian replied with a warm, polite smile, inclining his head in respect.
"The pass was somewhat noisy, but my Vanguard ensured our journey remained on schedule."
Thaddeus glanced past Cassian toward Leo, whose broadsword was freshly cleaned and sheath bound at his hip. A faint, knowing smile touched the High Priest's lips.
"The Crimson Vanguard," Thaddeus murmured softly. "I remember when you were merely hot-headed boys causing trouble at the Imperial Academy. Now, you stand as immovable pillars of the empire."
Leo offered a crisp, respectful nod.
"We serve where our commander walks, Your Holiness."
"Indeed,"
Thaddeus turned back to Cassian, gesturing toward the open bronze doors of the inner sanctum.
"Come inside out of the biting wind, My Prince. The sun has aligned, and the ceremonial robes prepared for your union with Sir Arden and Lord Sora await."
Inside the sanctuary, the air was warm, scented with rare incense and burning pine. Resting upon a velvet-lined pedestal at the altar lay three breathtaking ceremonial garments, woven with silver thread and golden runes of protection that shimmered beneath the skylight.
Cassian walked slowly toward the altar, his fingers gently brushing the fine, radiant fabric.
"They are magnificent, Thaddeus,"
Cassian murmured, a rare, soft warmth softening his crimson eyes as he thought of Lucien and Sora waiting back at the estate.
"They were crafted with prayers for peace, Your Highness," Thaddeus said, standing beside him. "A peace you have bled to protect. Whatever shadows stir in the capital, know that the light of Solis recognizes your union."
Cassian's hand closed gently over the silk.
"Then let us make sure we return safely before those shadows reach my home."
*****