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𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓂𝓎 wisps of wind swam through Camelot's cobbled streets, blowing gentle breaths against the crowds, ladies held their skirts to their bodies in order to prevent them from lifting in the breeze. The basket in Ingrid's arm was largely empty, save for two jars of fruit preserves and a couple of blank handkerchiefs for embroidering. Princess Alma combed through stalls of fruits, gaudy fabrics, and small ornaments, eyes flittering past most goods unless she settled on something which caught her eye. Most of the people in the market averted their eyes but bowed when Princess Alma passed by, (due to Uther's latest decree) six trailed behind her, three knights from Camelot dressed in their armor and blood red cape and three Lucien warriors with their leather uniforms and white cape. The white cape was adorned with a silver brooch to fasten the cape together at the case of their throats; the Lucien royal coat of arms stitched in fine black threads, a dark constellation on a bleached sky.
The color white was incredibly sacred in Lucien culture; it was reserved almost exclusively to the king, his royal guard and blushing brides on their wedding day. Warriors were allowed to wear an off white cape because it showed off the stains of blood and battle. There was great glory to be won in the violent haze of battle. Warriors were the perfect combination of stealth, strategy, and brutality and returning home with the magnificence of a bloody cape as proof of triumph received much praise and prestige. The more weathered the once clean cape, the higher status attributed to the warrior.
The white capes reminded Alma of the billowing sails of the ships which brought her to Camelot's shores. Her father had been in one of the neighboring kingdoms on business when he received a marriage offer from Uther; King Uther had been the one to request the Princess's hand for his only son Prince Arthur. Alma, at the time, had been back in Lucia; her father had taken her older brothers with him and had left her under the care of her mother and her mother's family. It took some time for the news of her engagement to reach the Princess, as her mother's family lived in one of the most western regions of Lucia.
Though initially, she had been privately thrilled with her engagement (it was said that Prince Arthur was incredibly pleasant to the eyes and a very skilled knight), her benediction perished upon her arrival at Camelot. Her father had seldom bestowed his tenderness to her as her sire; a secure marriage into a powerful kingdom and a wealthy family atoned for the wrong he had done to her in her childhood. However, heaven had once again refused to turn its face towards her and she found herself abandoned in the shores of Camelot, as she watched her father's ships puncture the sea and disappear.
Because Alma and Prince Arthur were married by proxy, Alma was not permitted to wear white. She would gaze at the white capes of her father's men with dolefulness. Her forlorn aspiration of wearing white on her wedding day had been thrashed by Uther and her father's agenda for a precipitated marriage. She smiled bitterly.
The armor of the knights of Camelot and the jewels in which Alma was dressed reflected sunlight like the glimmer of a serpent's scales as Alma and Ingrid navigated the bustling streets. The slithering train of nobility and guards paused as they happened across a curious scene; Arthur Pendragon, donning a red tunic, taunting and provoking a young boy, perhaps not much younger than Arthur himself. When the unnamed boy lashed out, Arthur grabbed his arm and pinned it against his back, effectively immobilizing him. As much resentment as Alma felt towards her brash and beautiful husband, his movements were fluid and graceful, like a rehearsed dancer floating on a stage.
