We made our way along the wide paved main street of Windscar. People crowded the streets, going about their day to day. It had always amazed me that such an array of people from different walks of life could exist in the same space during the few times I had visited the city with my parents. Women in simple dresses and aprons carrying baskets of laundry, hunters wearing beaten leather armour and bows, city guards wearing the same uniforms as the men at the wolf statues, farmers either pushing carts or leading donkeys hitched to carts full of produce, sailors wearing the heavy furs and linens common amongst those from Ventus, and rich merchants wearing fine robes with jewellery of silver and gold all mingled in an ever moving mason along the road.

The entrance of the city had inns and taverns lining the road. Many had timber signs hanging over their doors painted with different animals to make them distinguishable from the rest. The door to one such tavern swung open, and raucous laughter, shouting and music spilled out until the door slammed shut once more.

The road led to a large square, at the centre of which sat a large fountain that held a carving of a howling wolf set atop a tall pillar. The wolf had been painted silver, and shimmered under the afternoon sun. Market stalls were set all around the square, and the vendors were heartily shouting about their wares to any that wandered near. Groups of children ran about under the watchful eyes of their mothers, many of whom sat at the fountain and chatted while doing their washing. People wandered the square, some inspecting the furs, cloths and jewellery that were neatly laid out, others haggling energetically over fruits and vegetables.

The smell of roasting meat and capsicums met my nose. Looking around I found a stall selling freshly cooked kebabs had been set up, and my mouth started watering. Other stalls that sold candied fruits, small honey cakes and roasted meat on fresh bread buns were also nearby.

I wish we could stop and eat.

To our right another road branched off, and I saw that it led to the cliff face overlooking the harbour. I knew from previous visits that the street facing the water held warehouses to store the cargo brought in off the ships, and lodging houses for the weary sailors. It was also home to the city's red light district and was frequently prowled by thieves, so Da had always forbade me and Mason from going near it.

To our left, a road ran through the city's craftsmen district. Blacksmiths, tailors, jewellers and glass blowers had shops facing the road. Large windows held neatly displayed wares to tempt a passerby inside. A couple of ladies in fine dresses could be seen gushing over a display at one of the glassblower shops.

We continued on the road straight ahead of us. Butchers, grocers and bakeries began to give way to cafes, restaurants and larger houses. These houses had doors carved with intricate patterns, had small gardens of flowers decorating the front, and were often guarded by heavy stone statues of wolves. The road began to curve upwards. The higher we climbed, the larger and more grand the houses became. Many of the carvings within the doors were now painted with silver, and I could spot a few trees and vines dangling overhead from rooftop gardens.

The ground flattened out, and we came upon another square. This one was quieter and catered to the more affluent residents of the city. Small cafes with delicate looking tables and chairs dotted the square, as well as a few boutiques and even a flower shop. The centre of the square was taken up by a large tree completely flush with small pink flowers, no leaves grew on its branches. A small patch of neatly trimmed grass surrounded the tree, and a low white picket fence protected it from the careless wanderer. As I watched, a breeze blew through the square and ruffled the branches, causing a cascade of pink to flutter to the ground.

The people here wore clothes of a much finer calibre than what I had seen so far. Elegant dresses and tunics of high quality fabric were embroidered with the spiky loops of fire magic circles in threads of shimmering gold and silver. Small golden lanterns containing a little flame dangled off fine belts of silver chain, and bright gems winked from settings of gold on the necks and ears of men and women alike. A few men in fine furs and with the circles of an air magus etched into gold pendants mingled with the others. Each had long, neatly braided beards, and one had an earring with a shiny white gem that seemed to glimmer from a light within.

Many in the square were staring at us, whispering to each other behind their hands or shooting disapproving glares. Captain Strykar gave us the order to dismount. As we continued on foot, leading our horses behind us, Jayce came up next to me once again.

"Have you ever been to Windscar before Rowan?" he asked, shooting a wink at a pair of young ladies sat nearby, who looked away and giggled at each other.

I nodded. "Yeah, a few times, although it has been a while. My last visit would have been when that tree was being planted," I told him, indicating the tree at the centre of the square.

"Oh, the cherry blossom?" Jayce looked up at the gently swaying branches, brushing a pink petal from his face. "That was a few years ago then. I heard it was imported over from Thadal, and they had to get the help of a powerful earth magus when it was planted to keep it from dying."

I smiled at that - it was actually Da who had helped plant the tree, and he came back here at least a couple times a year to check it was still healthy. He'd always been private about just how strong a magus he was, so I just nodded along as Jayce kept happily chatting. He pointed out various shops and houses as we walked, telling me what cafes had the best cakes, and the latest gossip amongst the city nobles which mainly consisted of petty squabbles and rumours of affairs. Ethan would cut in now and then with an aside of his own, usually about Jayce and how he had embarrassed himself in one way or another.

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We left the square and continued up another sloping road. The houses along here were large enough to be considered mansions, and had courtyard gardens out front that were watched over by guards wearing different livery. Brightly coloured stained glass windows started to become common, often perched above heavy doors decorated with silver finishings.

Finally, we came to the end of the road. A large iron gate set in a tall white stone wall blocked us from going any further. A guard stood either side of the gate, both wearing the red tunics and armour of the Lycan Guard. As we approached, they saluted to Captain Strykar and opened the gate, allowing us access to the grounds within.

Loose gravel crunched underfoot as we walked along a long path through the garden. The pathway went under rows of timber trellis that held the heavy boughs of wisteria trees. Strands of purple flowers hung down, the longest almost brushing the head of the Captain who walked in front of us. Neat gardens of roses and iris spread out either side of the path with bees lazily buzzing between the flowers.

The main building came into view once we stepped out from beneath the wisteria. It was easily the largest building I had ever seen. It rose multiple stories high, and was side enough to fit every building in Crosset with room to spare. Each of its windows were covered with glass, and a large window above the entrance was an intricate mural of stained glass depicting the God of Fire Bolcan as a burning wolf. Translucent panes of red, blue, yellow, white, pink and green were skilfully brought together to bring the God to life with breathtaking beauty. Flowering vines of jasmine grew up a few sections of the building, and a couple of gardeners were tending to the vines and trimming them.

Once we came up to a set of broad steps leading to the entrance of the mansion, Captain Strykar handed the reins of his horse to Jayce and bade for me to do the same, then led me up the stairs. The double doors were at least twice my height, and made from a dark polished timber. The handles were a shiny brass. Each door was carved with the likeness of a wolf facing inwards, a shining blue gem set in the wood for each of their eyes. An older man stood before the doors, dressed in a neat black suit with grey hair brushed neatly back. He had his hands clasped firmly behind his back.

"Harold, we'll need to speak with Her Grace once she's available," Captain Strykar said to the man once we had reached the top of the stairs.

The old man - Harold - inclined his head. "Of course, Captain. Regretfully the Duchess has other appointments for the remainder of the day. I shall speak to Her Grace to arrange a meeting at the earliest possible convenience.

The Captain sighed. "Yes, thankyou Harold." He glanced over at me. "In the meantime, Miss Rowan here will need a room to stay in. And also arrange for new clothing in her size to be brought to her."

I was surprised. Was a Captain of the Lycan Guard supposed to be able to make such requests of the ducal couple's staff? Harold, however, simply nodded his head.

"Of course Captain. I shall make the arrangements straight away," he said, and gave me a polite smile.

Captain Strykar turned to me then. "Harold is the head butler. If you need anything while you're here, speak to him" With that, he turned and left back down the stairs.

Alright, cool, just left to fend for myself here. That's not at all worrying.

Harold pushed one of the doors open with one hand, the other hand remaining behind his back, and tilted his head towards the inside. "Come, Miss Rowan. We'll see to getting you situated in a guest room."

I followed Harold through the doorway, and found myself in a pristine foyer with a soaring ceiling so high I felt dizzy looking up at it. A grand staircase made from the same polished timber as the doors was directly in front of us, a lush red carpet running down its centre. The walls were white with a timber trim near the floor. Thin tables and cabinets were set along the walls, some holding vases of sweet smelling flowers, others holding flowing statues of glass or bronze. The stained glass window above the doorway caught the afternoon light, and bathed the room in a multitude of hues. The floor I was standing on looked to be a polished white marble. When I glanced down I saw my dirt covered boots had left a messy trail behind me and winced inwardly. If I ever walked into my house wearing boots like this, mum would have rapped me on the head with a spoon. The back of my head practically ached at the thought.

Harold led me up the grand staircase and to the right along the hallway at the top. The sensation of my boots sinking ever so slightly into the carpeted floor felt so strange and wrong. We went down the hallway, passing many closed doors and paintings of landscapes I didn't realise set in extravagant frames of gold. Finally, Harold stopped before a door that looked just like the others and opened it. He gestured for me to enter.

I stepped through the doorway and saw it led to a bedroom. Easily the size of the entire kitchen and dining room back home, the room was dominated by a large four post bed that sat against one wall and was made up with plush sheets and pillows. The floor was covered in more soft carpet, this time in a pale powdery blue. A large white door set with small glass panels on the wall opposite to me was slightly ajar, causing the sheer curtains in front of it to billow out with the wind. I saw a small balcony through the door, a little table and two chairs set on it. A door opposite the bed was open, the room beyond dark, but I caught a glimpse of white tiles on the floor.

"This shall be your room for the duration of your stay," Harold explained. "You are free to move about the grounds as you wish, but I ask that you do not go to any of the floors above this one within the mansion. I shall have a maid come and attend to you shortly."

"Oh, um, thank you but that won't be..." I turned to face him only to find he had already left, closing the door behind him. "...necessary," I finished, then sighed.

I'm only supposed to be telling the Duchess what I found at the Wall, why would I need a maid? Or a room this extravagant?

I shrugged to myself. Perhaps this was normal with nobles, I really wouldn't know.

I removed my boots, carefully setting them next to the door so they wouldn't shed any more dirt. I couldn't bring myself to walk any further on this fine carpet wearing them. That done, I stretched my weary back and legs and headed towards the balcony. As I stepped outside, I was met with the glorious view of the gardens we had passed through bathed in the glow of the afternoon sun. I lent against the balcony railing and gazed down at the swaying wisteria flowers. Another gentle gust of wind wafted the heady smell of roses up to me. I sighed in appreciation. I would likely never get to experience this again in my lifetime.

I stayed there as the sun sank low on the horizon, watching the gardeners pack up their equipment for the day and the bees take off for their hives. A stormbird called in the distance, its mournful song signalling the promise of rain during the night. A knock at the door startled me out of my daydreaming. I went back into the room to answer it.