The next day, the carriage ride to the Imperial Palace was uncharacteristically quiet. Verona sat tucked against Elric's side, the warmth of his body through his heavy formal coat the only thing keeping her nerves from fraying. Outside, the sprawling white stone of the capital sped past, but her mind was miles away, trapped in a maze of suspicion.
What is this really about? she wondered, her fingers tracing the intricate embroidery of her skirts.
The summons had been formal and swift. The King requested their presence to discuss "matters of state and gratitude." On the surface, it seemed honorable, but Verona had lived long enough to know that the King rarely acted without a whisper in his ear.
Her thoughts drifted immediately to Duke Vernhardt. Hw was not a man who took defeat gracefully. Was this his new trick? Had her father manipulated the Crown into a corner to force her return, or perhaps to find a legal loophole to dissolve her engagement?
