Ren and Lilith rode in solemn silence, their horses moving at the same pace as everyone else along the flagstone path.
They were among the procession of Chosen who followed closely behind the Bishop's ornate carriage, its wheels creaking softly as it rolled through the streets of Summerhold. The Bishop's crest, a golden tree cradling a star, glinted almost blindingly under the harsh midday sun.
The sun was overhead, shining down directly through the tall and cramped buildings and onto the crowd of people who were pressed tightly to the sides of the road, leaving a long and clear path for the Church procession.
Murmurs floated through the air like smoke, others whispering harshly. Some citizens bowed their heads in reverence. Others simply stared, silent and suspicious.
Ren leaned closer to Kevin, who rode ahead beside Jean.
"Is it common," Ren whispered, voice low so it wouldn't carry, "for the King to send messages directly to a Bishop?"
