The carriage rocked gently beneath me, but it wasn't the movement that made me feel unsettled—it was everything else.
I kept my eyes on the passing trees, pretending I wasn't aware of the man seated across from me. Victor Draevan. His eyes were currently fixed on a leather-bound book, his posture elegant, as if the idea of discomfort simply didn't exist for him.
I shifted slightly, the silence pressing too tightly on my chest.
Why me?
Why did he ask for me to accompany him on this brief country tour? I wasn't of any royal significance. Not yet anyway. And he had barely spoken more than a handful of sentences to me before today—only kind nods and too-perfect smiles at royal dinners.
And Damien… God.
He didn't even look at me when I turned to him. Not when I was escorted toward the carriage, not even when I mouthed his name. Like I was some stranger. Like this didn't matter.
Victor finally closed the book with a soft snap, drawing my attention.
