The royal procession entered the Great Valley of the Blackwood Pack at midday on the fourteenth day. The high mountain ridges were mantled in fresh, glistening white snow, while the valley floor was alive with the warmth of thousands of welcoming hearth-fires. Every village along the valley highway had erected triumphal arches of spruce boughs and silver ribbon, their bells ringing in joyful cadence. As Grand Protector Rowan Blackwood rode…
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