Collaterals

B Salama

The horses were a good few paces away from the door. And even then, the first doors opened inward, so that they were not attacked by a cloud of sand as they sat atop their horses: three knights ahead in a triangle-like formation, and three behind, in an inverted triangle. The rest of the Knights lined the row of carriages, all behind them as the formed a line, banner men holding flags of Aradia and of the Royal Family's Sigil. Leila and Ali sat atop their own horses by one another, Captain settling onto his horse to Leila's other side, only a pace behind, a scowl on his face that made clear his disfavor.

He leaned forward, now, so he was closer, "I do hope I am not expect to pull the arrow out your heart this time."

Leila rolled her eyes, not looking back, "If it's too much of a hassle, bury me with it."

He only grunted in distaste, straightening.

Ali looked to her, eyes glancing to the Hand's Lapel Pin, secured to her Hand's Sash, both of which Captain Gawain had handed her upon her descent from her carriage. He spoke in Aradian as he glanced to the Captain, "I see your knight has a great many...opinions."

"Retired Knight," Leila was quick to correct before she smirked, her words slow as she pieced them into a sentence, "The heat makes him grumpy, I think."

"It tends to have that affect," Khaled joked a he swung a leg over his horse, settling swiftly by Ali's side, a pace behind so he was leveled with Captain Gawain.

Ali looked him over, "Not on you, farm boy."

"Ha!" Khaled looked up in humor before he looked ahead, to where the doors were being secured. "An insult to the farm boy." He put his gloved hands up, mockingly, as though to assess them, "My hands are far too soft."

Leila raised a brow, "You're to join the procession, Khaled?"

Considering the position he sat in, the sword secured tightly to his person, it was safe to assume he was acting as a shield to Ali. It was a seat of honor, certainly, to be by the Crown Prince as protector, only Khaled was not knighted. Surely Ali would prefer a knight, no?

Khaled looked to her, "And let your brother have all the glory? It'd get right to his royal head."

"Very funny," Ali shook his head even as he smiled, "but the glory is all for Leila today."

Leila straightened, hands clenching the reigns of her horse as they looked to her. She gave a small nod, smiling politely before she looked forward. The first door, now open and secured, had let way to the sound of drums, not so distant anymore. 

The tune of a a song flowed freely to her as the men began to pull the second set of double doors open. Leila could not tell what the tune sang, but it was a lively thing, running atop air and tickling its way through the skin leading to her ear so that she could not help the stupid grin as it wove through her lips, the jitters as they cascaded down the tips of her finger. And then the second doors were secured, and though Leila knew better than to shift, she craned her neck just so she could see past the men ahead of her, and peak through the archway of city gates and into the city's welcoming street. Trumpets sounded, and their procession moved.

The people stood on the sides of the road, guards lining it with their spears crossed so no one could go past them. Though a great many did try, hands outreached past the guards as they shouted in excitement, throwing roses and presents, wailing praises and prayers. The street was already overflowing with flowers by the time their horses stepped foot in them. Leila didn't know where to look first. The glare of the blazing sun, the people, the decorations, the bands and a dancers, the flowers being flung her way...it was all to much. She looked everywhere, all at once almost in a spiral. But then there was a hand, steady atop her own, holding her.