They were all warships built in a time of peace, as if Ironbloods ever had to worry about battle.Īt the end of the docks, Royal Captain Viera waited, a bandage on her cheek from their run-in a few days ago. Two of his mother’s finest guardsmen led Ana down the length of the docks to the waiting Royal Guard, passing large starships with sails that shone like spun gold. He wished he were anywhere other than here. It was frozen in time-a broken relic from a terrible rebellion. Robb hadn’t been back to the palace in seven years, but he quickly realized as he stepped out onto the docks that nothing had changed. Surrounding the palace lay terraformed gardens blooming with moonlilies, and in the largest garden stood the kingdom’s first Iron Shrine. The rest of the palace, however, was immaculate in its marble walls and golden trim-the pinnacle of opulence. It had never been rebuilt, and instead the doors were locked-the halls never to be trod in again. The North Tower looked like the other three, but it stood as a hollow shell with burned insides. The Iron Palace looked like a shard of black glass against the otherwise pale landscape of the moon, a gloomy fortress.
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