The Artifact, Part Seven

Melisa tried not to fidget as the royal carriage bounced along the cobblestone streets toward the palace. The plush velvet seats and gold trim still felt foreign to her, a reminder of how far she'd come from that little nim girl in Lessmark who couldn't even cast the simplest spell.

[And yet, here I am. On my way to advise the queen. I mean, unofficially, of course.]

She adjusted her formal academy robes, specially tailored to accommodate her horns and tail. Margaret had insisted on the upgrade a few weeks ago, declaring that "if you're going to play politics with humans, you might as well look the part."

"ACK!" 

The carriage hit a particularly deep rut, nearly sending Melisa flying off her seat.

"Careful there!" the royal guard sitting across from her warned. "These old streets weren't built with comfort in mind."