Peridot’s eyes follow his toward the tent and then go back to the Prince. She bows again. “Thank you, your highness. I want to do my part for their Majesties as well. They have been good to us beasts.”
Cor says, “I’m sure we — I’m sure we all want that.” He takes a breath. “Lord Peridan might be better to talk to.”
Peridan ducks out of the tent, rubbing his forehead for a moment before straightening his shoulders and walking toward the fire where the others are gathered.
Continue reading day 3: over and done
The royal terrace is a broad space of flagged stone, large enough to entertain a small party. It is roofed and shady, partially sheltered from the capricious mountain weather, but open to the north and west for a particularly splendid view of the sunsets. A waist-high balustrade curves along the edge, an ornamental barrier to the not insignificant drop to the ground on the other side. Ivy creeps in thick green masses up the outer pillars supporting the roof, and potted shrubs are spaced at regular intervals along the railing. A double-door flanked by picture windows leads back into the castle.
Mountains loom high to the north, the range extending into the far west.
(OOC note: the first half of chapter 15 of The Horse and His Boy goes here. It wasn’t RPed, but everybody present recorded their reactions here.)
Continue reading aslan