The carriage ride was harder than Aria had expected. Even worse was when she had first been moved and picked off the floor by Zyren. She had groaned as the pain that tore through her body eclipsed everything else, swallowing even her thoughts beneath its relentless weight.
Others had tried to comfort her, their voices low and anxious, but the man who held her in his arms simply stared at her face silently as he began to head outside and towards the carriage without opening his mouth to say a word. His expression had been unreadable, his grip firm yet careful, as though he feared she might break if he held her any tighter.
"What? I don't get a sorry?" she whispered to him, her voice low and strained. But she knew that even if she had only mouthed the words, Zyren would still have heard her.
