Adolph Raymond breathed in the scent of his kingdom’s lands with great relief. There was no blood, no pain or darkness: no fear. He smiled, guiding his horse in line with the procession as he breathed in the scent of the metalwork that Silver Blade was known for. It was sweeter than he thought it should be. Almost creamy like milk and honey warmed by the sun, sweet and tantalizing.
He shook his head. That scent wasn’t metalwork.
Adam growled with contentment. Adolf’s wolf had never felt so at ease. He cast his gaze around searching for the source of the scent.
“Your Majesty?”
Soon, he found the source of the scent. A young woman, likely younger than his son, was balanced carefully on a tree overlooking the procession. Her long black hair gleamed in the sunlight like silk and the hem
