Seventy-two hours after the Fourth Imperial Prince, Rhein, assumed the position of Regent King, the air in the Imperial Capital was as taut as a fully drawn bowstring.
The downpour had yet to arrive, but the wind beyond the western walls was already whipping up dust.
Faint tremors like war drums rolled through the distant mountains. The allied army of Duke Raymont and the Second Imperial Prince, Kalien, was approaching.
The Imperial Capital's western walls had been completely sealed off.
Every drawbridge had been raised, all three portcullises lowered, and the streets cleared. The imperial guards and Inspectorate guards stood ready in full armor.
The entire city resembled a colossal beast drawing its body inward, waiting for the tearing impact of the first bite.
Rhein stood atop the highest Command Tower on the western wall. A thick crimson carpet lay beneath his feet, an absurd contrast to the muddy battlefield outside.
He held a cup of black tea in one hand, its fragrance strikingly out of place in the damp chill before the rain. In the other, he held a silver-plated telescope, surveying the dark mass of allied troops below.
The tower was packed with the Imperial Capital's civil officials and nobles.
They all wore ceremonial light armor, yet most still turned pale at the sight beyond the walls.
Duke Simmons stood behind Rhein, both hands gripping his cane.
His eyes were fixed on the shifting black mass at the horizon. "Your Highness... that... it looks like more than a single army now..."
Rhein turned his head and glanced at him, his tone so composed it verged on casual. "Calm yourself, Duke."
He raised a hand, directing Simmons's attention to the outside of the wall.
A pale golden membrane shimmered beyond the wall, as though a gently trembling shield had