The wooden wheels of the carriage clacked steadily over the cobbled path, the moon casting pale beams through the slits of the carriage window. The wind outside whispered like ghosts in the dark.
From the driver's seat, the masked man finally broke the silence.
His voice was strangely calm. Mature.
"…You know what, Princess?" he said, not looking back. "You did great back there… with that Evos guy. I thought you were done for. If you had fallen, I would've stepped in and killed him myself."
Inside the carriage, Dila's expression shifted. Her gaze sharpened like glass.
She clenched her jaw. Her voice came out trembling in anger, a whisper that built into a snarl.
"Now you care?" she snapped, her tone ice and fire in one.
"Now you're worried about my well-being? After everything?"
Fran stirred faintly beside her, still asleep.
Dila leaned forward, her eyes fierce.
"You hurt my friends. You enjoyed twisting them, breaking them—just like toys."
She dug her nails into her palm.
