As the carriage rolled smoothly through the icy terrain, Islinda sat in silence, her gaze fixed upon the breathtaking landscape outside her window. The frozen landscape stretched out over uncountable acres of land, adorned with delicate icicles hanging from barren branches and blankets of pristine snow covering the ground.
After the confrontation with his uncle Karle, the overthrown High lord had made a carriage available for Aldric to transport him to the palace and out of all the many people the dark Fae prince could have chosen to ride with him, he had chosen her. Not Elena or even his uncle, but her. Islinda.
The significance of Aldric's choice did not escape her notice. It was a subtle yet powerful gesture, one that left her feeling both exhilarated and apprehensive. She could sense the confusion and disapproval radiating from Karle, who attempted to protest against Aldric's decision, but a single glance from the dark Fae prince silenced any further objections.
