There are days when the sky feels too bright for the mood inside a carriage, and this morning happened to be one of those. Liera sat with her gloved hands folded neatly on her lap, the faint sway of the wheels doing little to calm her nerves. She'd made this exact trip countless times, the path to the palace was practically stitched into her bones by now, yet today carried a different flavor. Strange, a little heavy, like someone had slipped a pebble into her shoe without her noticing.
Perhaps it was simply because she wasn't alone.
Her father sat across from her, rigid as a winter pine. There were days when he spoke too much and days when he barely said a word. Today, he'd chosen the latter, which only increased her unease. He wasn't one to tag along unless he had a reason. And her gut, annoyingly perceptive thing that it was, kept whispering that his reason had nothing to do with accompanying her out of fatherly affection.
