"Lady Soraya, I’m sorry. The crowd has blocked the way."
The coachman says, bring Soraya’s attention back from looking down on Abram form a literal bird’s-eye-view. It seems that the people’s movements on the actual day of the parade are contrary to her calculations.
"It can’t be helped. Pick a spot with as few people as possible, and move alongside the parade."
It would have been best if she could have delegated everything without ever leaving the castle, but even her magic has restrictions. Besides, it is easier to act if she is on the scene. In either case, the staff left at the castle are all hypnotized by her already, where everyone believes entirely that she is still at the castle. Even if someone are to visit looking for her, all they could say was that she is unavailable for the moment.
Outside the carriage, she could hear the coachman and guards chasing the crowd away. Any drunk could come up to them, and even the robbers who wouldn’t ordinarily make a move could get cocky at a time like this and attack a small carriage. Soraya’s carriage conceals its Lambert crest, designed to be mistaken for a merchant’s carriage. This kind of interference wlis a byproduct of that design, and that’s why she has guarded the carriage with several men. While they are Lambert servants or the youngest sons of lower nobles, they are relatively useful when trouble is brewing, and they are puppets ready to toss their life away, as a result of years of brainwashing from Soraya. Most things that could go wrong in the city could be handled by these guards.
The carriage starts rolling again. Soraya looks down at her mirror, and regains her bird’s-eye-view. As planned, the carriage is about to reach the first point of attack.
***
The parade reaches Old Town, in the plaza where the market usually is. The large crowd that is waiting for it welcomes the parade with joyful cheers, and watches the marching. The polished armour gleams under the daylight, and the embroidered helmets and coats give off the appearance that each faction is competing solely on the ground of extravagance.
The emblem of Ferelden, a shield with two wolves at each sides, is on the flag everywhere.
"Look at that flag, the outfit! Is that hulk of a man the young King Cailan Theirin?"
"So that means, the knight of the same size in blue armour is Margrave Lubreo Lambert. Neither of them are even looking at each other."
"Who is the old man beside the King?"
"Silly girl. The man in the middle is the King and left side is Margrave Lambert. The old man in the right is Margrave Blare."
There are many travelers among the crowd here, but those who have the luxury of watching the parade from their window are mostly natives of Abram. They usually have no interaction with the noble class, and this is their chance to toss in their two cents.
House of Lambert, had made its name and fortune in water-transport (both in and out of the city), and House of Valois is more self-sufficient by operating their vineyards and gardens, they are the garden nobles in the city. Both houses have significant history, and they have been in competition with one another through most of it.
"Who is the another two persons on the stage with them?"
"Don't you know the man behind the king is Hero of Ferelden. He was the one who free Ferelden from the federation with King Maric."
"I heard Hero of Ferelden was discarded after King Maric's demise. He only got promoted after the defeat of great nobles against Arkland."
"Isn't Hero of Ferelden's daughter is the current Queen?"
"Does Loghain intend to usurp the throne for his family?"
"Hey. Isn't the girl behind the King looks familiar?"
"She is knight who always stroll in the city without weapon. So, she is the special guard for this parade?"
Any conversation from within a building would never reach the attendees of the parade. Most citizens who take advantage of that fact to gossip only do so out of pure curiosity. Meanwhile, the soldiers at guard couldn’t be bothered with gossip.
The most obvious threat of danger is being sniped with bow and arrow from above. A warning would be issued from below, and after a shouting argument, the residence would reluctantly close the window… Of course, the window would be open again in a matter of minutes.
"It’s a stressful situation from a guarding stand point."
Loghain Mac Tir who stands beside Lyla opens conversation with her.
Knight Lyla, now standing just behind King Cailan Theirin mumbles as she looks at Loghain Mac Tir. The best way to avoid assassination is to not have a parade in the first place, but she understands that cancelling the parade isn’t an option.
Next to her, on the stage, the Loghain Mac Tir is gazing at the scene, gallantly. Lyla has heard about this famous man countless times, and has the impression that he is a man that can't be easily gouged. Which made Lyla hesitant to spark a conversation with him.
Lyla nearly lost herself in her thoughts, but she couldn’t forget to attend to her surroundings. She nods to the Loghain's conversation, while dividing her attention all around her.
She feels her knees become weak as thousands of eyes are beholding at her.
With her force of will, she keeps herself from stuttering all over, and keeps an especially stoic appearance.
And I would never let Master Lubreo down… She almost mutters this. Lyla wants to mock herself for naturally thinking useless things during an important event. She looks away from Loghain Mac Tir, and searches the crowd around them, and windows in the buildings.
Layla wonders why she was chosen as the sole bodyguard on stage, but she quickly gives up on reaching a conclusion. She reminds herself that she is standing on a battlefield, feeling the weight of her sword on her belt. Her Master Lubreo, whom she has devoted her unrequited love for, had rewarded her loyalty with an expensive sword. Hiro, whom she now has a special relationship with all because of a small coincidence, trusts her immensely.
"I must be a lucky woman. If I can’t at least return the favour with my work… I shall never call myself a knight again."
Lyla swears in her heart.
