The carriage wheels rumbled rhythmically against the cobblestone streets, creating a steady, hypnotic sound that filled the silence of the night. Inside the velvet-lined interior of the Thompson family carriage, the air was cool and quiet. The chaos of the Golden Swan felt miles away, though it had only been a few minutes since they left.
Marissa leaned back against the plush cushions, letting out a long, slow breath. Her body felt heavy, drained by the performance she had just put on. Her hands, resting in her lap, were finally still. She stared out the small window, watching the gas lamps of the capital blur into streaks of yellow light as they passed.
Opposite her, Lily sat on the edge of her seat. The maid looked nervous. Her hands were clasped tightly together, holding something small and shiny. She kept glancing at Marissa, then down at her hands, then back at Marissa.
