The royal carriage creaked gently as it moved through the cobbled streets of upper Esgard, its lacquered frame reflecting the warm lanternlight that marked the path toward the noble quarter. The scent of burning oils, rosewood incense, and distant hearths clung to the wind.
Inside, silence lingered for a time.
Ian sat across from Velrosa, posture relaxed but eyes watchful, drinking in the sight of her despite himself. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, hands gloved in silk resting lightly on her lap. Her gaze was turned to the window, unreadable.
He finally broke the silence. "Do you actually enjoy these kinds of gatherings?"
She glanced back at him, amused. "Does it look like I do?"
"No," he said, lips twitching in a faint smirk. "But I figured I'd ask. You wear the role well."
Velrosa gave a short, elegant laugh. "That's the trick. You pretend to enjoy the theater until you forget you're acting. That's nobility for you."
