The air outside the inn is cool and fresh, the sun a warm, welcome presence on my skin. The city is already coming to life, the sounds of merchants hawking their wares, the cries of gulls overhead, the rhythmic creak of ships in the harbor.
It's a good day to travel.
And a good day to be away from this city.
The cart is waiting for us at the edge of town, the horses already hitched and ready to go. Valentine is at the reins, a cheerful, jaunty tune on his lips, and Celeste is already settled in the back, a book in her lap.
May is sitting on my lap, her small body warm against mine, her head resting on my shoulder. She's quiet, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery, her little mind lost in a world of her own making.
