The Guards saw him coming. They shouted for him to please wait, Your Highness, you must have a detail with you, sir, please, sir, slow down! But he showed no signs of doing so. The Guards managed to open the gates enough for a single rider, and he thundered past. If he saw a gateminder gallop off toward the Guards' compound, he paid him no mind.
Snow melt swelled the Feather River; its roar swallowed the sound of Jeb's hooves as they pounded across Kingsbridge into Old Town. Traffic brought his pace to a trot, giving the crowds a chance to recognize him. He heard the now-familiar cheers, and a path cleared enough for him to reach the Promenade without slowing to a walk.Read the rest of this post