Chapter 4

The soldier's horse pawed the ground, steam rising from its nostrils in the cold morning air. Behind him, a dozen mounted guards fanned out, blocking the narrow mountain pass.

"Lady Elena," the soldier called out, his voice carrying that same smug tone I remembered from the card table. "His Grace demands your immediate return."

I stepped down from the carriage, my boots sinking into the muddy road. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained a bruised purple-gray.

"Does he?" I asked calmly. "And what reason did he give for this demand?"

The soldier shifted in his saddle. "He said...…