Salviana pulled the silver whistle from her collar, lifted it to her lips, and blew a sharp, double-blast that cut through the silent woods.
That was how it was done. The royals hunted, but the heavy lifting was left to the cartwheel crew—the castle porters who tracked the horn signals and whistle blasts to retrieve and haul the game back to the palace kitchens.
Within minutes, the distant rattling of heavy wooden wheels and the clatter of iron-rimmed spokes echoed down the winding dirt path. Two burly castle porters emerged from the thicket, leading a stout draft horse hitched to a flatbed cart. They immediately dropped to one knee upon seeing the Prince and his lady.
"Your Highness. My Lady," the lead porter said respectfully, quickly standing to assess the kill. His eyes widened slightly at the sheer size of the boar. "A fine beast. We'll have it bound and loaded straight away."
