[Lavinia's POV — The Next Day, Road to the Capital]
The morning sun rose over Irethene like it had forgotten the chaos of yesterday. The sky was too blue, too peaceful—mockingly so. Every gust of wind carried the scent of pine and iron, the lingering perfume of the hunt.
Our royal convoy stretched down the road like a golden serpent—banners of Elorian fluttering, the sound of hooves steady and rhythmic. Soldiers marched in perfect discipline, their armor glinting under the dawn. But all I could hear was the echo of his voice.
"You can cut my legs if you want, Lavi…"
I sat by the carriage window, chin resting lightly on my hand, eyes fixed on the figure riding alongside.
Osric.
His horse strode in rhythm with the wheels, close enough that I could see the tired lines beneath his eyes. For a brief moment, our gazes met through the glass. He tried to smile—faint, tentative, as if afraid I might shatter him with a look.
I didn't return it.I didn't even blink.
