The carriage rolled steadily through the night.
The interior swayed gently with each bump and turn.
Alaric sat alone, one arm draped casually over the armrest, his gaze fixed on the passing darkness beyond the glass.
Then the shadows beneath the carriage rippled.
And suddenly a hooded figure sat on the seat across from him.
Alaric didn't flinch. Didn't even glance over. Just continued watching the window.
The figure reached up with gloved hands and pulled back her hood. Then her fingers found the edge of the dark mask covering the lower half of her face and tugged it down.
Her amber eyes gleamed in the dim light. Auburn hair spilled free, catching what little illumination filtered through the window and turning it copper-gold.
They sat in silence.
The carriage continued its steady rhythm.
Finally, she spoke.
