Footsteps from heels followed after the servants; everyone briefly bowed except for Veyric and Zahari. Queen Virelda's presence swamped the room; not a single person dared to utter a word. The chandeliers above could be heard faintly clinking back and forth from the speechlessness. Veyric's gaze glinted from underneath his hood, unable to take his eyes off the Queen; her black hair woven into a braided crown, sharp blue eyes like a serpent, and a deep blue glittering dress.

  "Thank you for coming, everyone." Her voice was honeyed, eyes sweeping around the room until landing on Veyric.

  Veyric almost lurched back. He clutched his cloak tightly, pulling his hood down firmly. Zahari noticed his uneasiness and leaned in close.

  "What's the matter?" She whispered to him.

  "She can see me." He replied, a hint of dryness in his voice.

  "What are you talking about?" Zahari questioned.

  "Her eyes are so intense that I feel like she knows…" Veyric whispered.

  "Relax, if I couldn't see you, she definitely can't," Zahari said. Queen Virelda took a couple more steps forward.

  "The banquet will begin at sundown. Rest assured, there will be no delays like last time. Please proceed through the corridor for refreshments. I'm sure you all must be parched." Virelda's voice echoed across the silenced room, and the wealthy nobles cheered. Virelda stepped to the side of the double doors, her servants doing the same. The nobles walked through, the lobby beginning to clear, chatter following until their voices were distant.

  "Go on, leave us," Virelda said.

  "But, my Queen, that's—" A servant tried to say

  "You heard me. Leave us." Virelda bluntly replied.

  "Yes, your majesty…" The servant replied, leaving with the others down the hallway to the banquet room.

  "As much as I would love to catch up, I know you have responsibilities at the harbor, Zahari," Virelda said to her.

  "Mhm, I've got a ship with contraband on it. I'll let you know if any of it is worth reselling, or not." Zahari replied, pushing off the pillar. She looked at Veyric, placing her hand on his shoulder for a moment.

  "This here's Veyric, the one wandering around the harbor. I thought he was one of the cultists, but no, he's far from it. He's not from here, either." Zahari vouched.

  "Thank you, Zahari. You're dismissed." Virelda said, gesturing hand. On her hand, each of her fingers had a multitude of rings, with the most charming jewels embedded in them.

  "Good luck," Zahari said. Those were her last words to Veyric before she left. He was now alone in the lobby with Queen Virelda.

  "Hello…" He said, his voice softer than before. Virelda took in Veyric's appearance. His scuffed boots, worn-down cloak, and a slight glimpse of his clothes underneath it. After a moment of scrutiny, a slight smirk escaped her. Veyric felt his heart plummet once he saw the expression on her face. No matter how tight he held his cloak, Queen Virelda's stare cornered him.

  "At least you have manners. We've had enough run-ins with mysterious strangers to know what they can do if left unchecked; hopefully, you can understand why I must know who you are." She explained.

  "I can understand," Veyric replied.

  "So, what were you doing wandering around Zahari's Harbor? She said you weren't with the cultists. If that's the case, why walk around hidden like a thief?" Virelda asks.

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  "I was just trying to protect myself while I gathered information, but every time I approached a stall back at the marketplace, everyone refused to talk to me," Veyric answered.

  "Well, that's a given. We've warned our residents to look out for hooded figures, report them, and not to serve them any kind of business." She explained.

  "But, what are you gathering information on? Perhaps I can be of help to you. The sooner you're on your way, the better." Virelda added.

  "I don't think this is something that you can help me with. It's too problematic," Veyric said.

  "Too problematic? Nothing's too problematic for me. Tell me what you need. It may not look it, but I have more insight and knowledge than you realize. Think of it as a gift only the Queen of Phithia can offer." She said. The room was filled with silence again, the sound of laughter coming from nobles in the banquet room. Veyric felt a spiraling unease in his stomach, considering the Queen's words.

  "Then, how do I get to the Wyvernlands?" Veyric asked, gauging the Queen's reaction. Her eyes marginally broadened, tilting her head at Veyric.

  "Is that a joke?... Why would you ever want to go to that wasteland?" She replied.

  "Do you know how to get there, yes or no?" Veyric grumbled out.

  "You can ask a scholar, and they wouldn't be able to tell you. Augus has completely separated ties with it and its destructive creatures. Not in the last twenty years have I heard someone utter it besides you. Not even the remaining Dragonborn dare ask of their home, which deepens my curiosity about you. " Virelda stated.

  "There are Dragonborn here?" Veyric's voice peaked.

  "None that I am aware of. Most Dragonborn these days are laborers or warriors in Leviara and Vislinia. Are you a dragon hunter?" She asked.

  "What? No, no… I wouldn't consider doing that." Veyric replied.

  "Really? You have a much more unique perspective than most, then. A lot of other men would have, had they the strength to do it. Hunting dragons is seen to be… Very, very rewarding, and only those who are given the blood of the Almighty can do it." Virelda remarked.

  "So, it's all to fill their pockets?" Veyric asked.

  "Yes, and no. It varies depending on who you ask. Returning to your question from earlier, your best bet for information on the Wyvernlands is to go to Leviara, the Kingdom of Unity. However, for someone like yourself, it will be far more demanding." She explains.

  "You've gotten very lucky here. I'll do you one last favor and provide you with a map. But just be aware that you owe me a favor, now, Veyric." Virelda added.

  "I guess that's fair." He said.

  With sundown now approaching, Veyric was free from the Queen's clutching stare. The streets were settling from the day's events, the wealthy reluctant to stay any longer, and the shopkeepers closing down their stores. Veyric passed by an elderly man closing up his bakery. The old man took out a scroll from a pouch and muttered the words for the wind to hear. Once finished, he used his wooden cane to walk himself down the street. Veyric noticed that plenty of shops were locking up tight. It would be impossible for an average person to break in. The night was here, and new residents climbed out of the shadows, while Veyric retreated to them.