Morning arrived with a biting chill, the kind that settled into the bones and refused to leave. Enara stood at the castle's entrance, arms crossed, her breath visible in the crisp air. The sky overhead was an expanse of cold gray, tinged with the first hints of dawn, as if the world itself was reluctant to wake.
She wasn't in the mood to be awake either.
The carriage was already prepared, sturdy and reinforced with obsidian plating, its enchanted wheels designed to move swiftly over any terrain. Two massive onyx-scaled drakelings were harnessed to the front, their reptilian eyes glowing faintly as they snorted against the cold.
Daena was already there, leaning against the side of the carriage like she had all the time in the world. She was dressed for war—midnight armor fitted perfectly over her powerful frame, her weapons strapped neatly to her sides. She looked relaxed, but Enara knew better. Daena was never truly relaxed. She was watching, waiting. Calculating.
