The third night was the same.

The fourth night, they did not camp. They drove through the darkness. The old man whipped the horses. The capital was close. The lights of the city were visible on the horizon. A golden glow against the night sky.

The women slept in the carriage. Their bodies were wrecked. Their holes were sore. Their nipples were raw. The wooden dildos Raven had fashioned were plunged into their asses. He had carved them with his magic. Smooth. Long. Thick. They were plugged in. All three of them. The pregnant woman. Vess. Juhi. Their panties held the dildos in place. Every bump in the road made the wood shift. It pressed against their anal walls. It stimulated them. It kept them wet. Kept them ready.

The boy slept.

The old man drove.

Raven sat on the roof of the carriage. His legs dangled over the side. He looked at the approaching city. His coat was open. The wind was in his hair. He smiled.

The gates of the capital were enormous.

Two towers of white stone flanked a massive arch. The portcullis was raised. Guards in silver armor stood at attention. Torches burned in iron brackets. The dawn light painted everything gold.

The carriage rolled to a stop.

A guard stepped forward. His hand was on his sword. His eyes were sharp. He looked at the carriage. At the old man. At the canvas top.

"Halt," he said. "State your business."

"Trade and travel," the old man said. He tipped his cap. "Just passing through. Visiting family."

The guard looked at the carriage. He pulled back the canvas. He looked inside.

He saw three women. They were dressed. Mostly. Their faces were flushed. Their eyes were heavy-lidded. The pregnant woman’s belly was enormous. The white-haired woman was tense. The short-haired one was looking at the guard with the expression of a person who has been awake for four days and has been fucked for three of them.

The guard also saw the boy. Sleeping. Dandelion crown on his head.

And then Raven leaned in from the roof.

He looked down at the guard. He smiled. He held out his hand. In his palm was a gold coin. It was not a standard gold piece. It was larger. Heavier. It bore no mint mark. It was pure.

"Good morning," Raven said. "My family is tired. The road was long. We just want to find an inn."

The guard looked at the coin. He looked at Raven. He looked at the women. His eyes lingered on the pregnant woman’s belly. On Vess’s white hair. On Juhi’s lean frame. His mouth twitched. He knew what he was looking at. He had been a guard long enough. A wealthy man traveling with multiple women. A harem. A family. None of his business.

He took the coin.

"Welcome to the capital," he said. He stepped back. He waved them through. "Enjoy your stay."

The carriage rolled through the gate.

The capital opened before them.

The streets were wide. Paved. Clean. The buildings were tall. Stone and timber. Painted shutters. Flower boxes. The market was already alive. Merchants shouted. Carts rolled. Children ran. The smell of bread and meat and spice filled the air. It was a city of life. Of noise. Of civilization.

The boy woke up. His eyes went wide.

"Mother!" he cried. "Look! It is so big! It is bigger than the festival! Bigger than everything!"

The pregnant woman smiled. She held his hand. She pointed at the buildings. At the fountains. At the knights in silver armor riding past on white horses.

Raven sat on the roof. He looked around. His eyes were sharp. Taking in everything. The layout. The streets. The guard positions. The locations of the guild halls. The direction of the palace, visible on the hill at the far end of the city. Its spires were golden. Its walls were white. The Crown Palace. Where the queen waited.

But first, he had business.

He saw a poster on a wall. It showed a knight’s helm. Below it, text: ROYAL GUARD SELECTION — TRAINING GROUNDS — EAST DISTRICT — ALL APPLICANTS WELCOME.

He noted it.

He looked further. He saw a flower shop. Small. Tucked between a bakery and a cobbler. The sign was faded. An old woman sat inside, arranging dried blooms. The sign read: ANVIL & SONS — FLORAL ARRANGEMENTS.

"Stop here," Raven said.

The old man pulled the reins. The carriage stopped. Raven climbed down. He stretched his back. He adjusted his coat.

"Wait here," he said to the women. "I have business."

Vess leaned out. Her eyes were heavy. "Are you going to come back?"

Juhi was beside her. She shifted. The wooden dildo in her ass pressed against the seat. She winced. "Are you going to... rest? With us?"

The pregnant woman said nothing. She just looked at him. Her dark eyes were desperate. Her hand was on her belly. Her thighs were pressed together. The dildo shifted. She gasped softly.

Raven looked at all three of them. Their faces. Their desperate, hungry, broken faces. The boy was already climbing out, reaching for the old man’s hand.

"Oh, what a happy family!" the boy cried. "I will hug too!"

The old man caught him. He covered the boy’s eyes with his rough hand. He sighed.

"You shouldn’t look, child," he said.

Because what the boy would have seen—what the old man could see—was Raven’s hand. It was behind the women. It was resting on their asses. He was gripping the wooden dildos through their dresses. He was pushing them deeper. All three women flinched. Their eyes went wide. Their mouths opened in silent gasps. Heart-shaped pupils formed in their eyes. The training of the journey had taken root. They were tamed. Plugged. Ready.

"You can rest," Raven said. "Keep those in. Until I return."

The women trembled. They nodded. They retreated into the carriage. Their thighs were pressed together. Their eyes were wet. Their asses were full.

Raven turned.

He walked to the flower shop. He entered. The bell above the door chimed. The old woman looked up. Her face was lined. Her eyes were sharp. She was not just a florist. She was a watcher. A listener. A doorway.

"Is Anvil here?" Raven asked.

The old woman’s eyes flickered. The name was a code. A password. The flower shop was a front. Behind the dried blooms and the dusty shelves, a door was hidden. She looked at Raven. At his coat. At his eyes. She recognized power when she saw it.

"Yes," she said. "Here."

She reached under the counter. She pressed a lever. The back wall of the shop shifted. A door appeared. It was hidden behind a shelf of dried roses. It opened inward. A staircase led down.

Raven entered.

The staircase was narrow. Stone. Lit by magical lamps that flickered purple. The air was cool. The smell of flowers was replaced by the smell of ink and old paper. The Information Guild. The hidden network of the capital. Where secrets were bought and sold like bread.

He reached the bottom.

A room opened before him. It was small. Cluttered. Shelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls and books and vials. A desk sat in the center.

Behind it, a man lounged in a chair.