It was late afternoon when she finally cantered into St Ivan's striking entry courtyard. One of the stable boys saw her and ran over to her in alarm.
"Your Grace! Aren't you supposed to be-"
"Yes I know exactly where I'm supposed to be!" Celia snapped, close to tears from the fiery pain running up her back. "But as you can clearly see, I'm here instead. So take my horse into the stable and see that she's fed well. This hasn't been an easy journey for either of us."
She dismounted with a long suffering groan, her legs nearly folding beneath her and sending her crashing down.
There was something about being within the safety of St Ivan's imposing walls that made Celia start shaking with exhaustion. She didn't particularly like the palace but at least she didn't have to worry about thieves trying to strike her down on the road to rob her.