Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 183: The claw of an eagle(1)

A grand carriage rolled through the towering gates of the city of Yarzat, its wheels creaking under the weight of luxury and its iron-rimmed edges kicking up dust from the well-worn road. The flag of the Imperial family of Romelia flapped proudly from its polished frame, a crimson and gold banner bearing the eagle crest of the empire, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Surrounding the carriage, a throng of soldiers and servants marched with purpose, their polished armor and well-groomed attire reflecting their allegiance to the might of Romelia.

At the forefront and rear, imperial soldiers clad in silver chainmail and plumed helmets kept a watchful eye on the cityfolk gathering at the sides of the road. Whispers and murmurs ran through the crowd as they caught sight of the imperial sigil. 

Inside the carriage, a man at the center of attention. His name was Dorian Arcelin, a seasoned diplomat dispatched by Keval Achea, the regent who ruled in place of the young emperor. 

As the carriage rattled through the bustling streets of Yarzat, Doria sat in its cushioned interior, his face partially obscured by a perfumed silk tissue held close to his nose. The delicate scent of jasmine and rosewater emanated from the cloth, offering a small reprieve from the pungent odors that seeped in through the carriage's small windows. His brow furrowed beneath his neatly combed hair, though he tried to keep his discomfort concealed.

Sitting across from him was Marcus, captain of his personal guard. He had noticed the subtle frown on Doria's face. Concerned but cautious, Marcus leaned forward slightly, his chainmail clinking softly as he spoke.

"Is everything alright, sir" Marcus asked, his voice low but respectful. He watched as Doria pressed the perfumed tissue closer, his irritation only thinly veiled.

Doria let out a quiet sigh, lowering the scented cloth briefly as he glanced at Marcus. "It's this wretched stench," he lamented, his voice thick with disdain. "How can anyone live in such filth? The smell is unbearable."