[Lavinia's POV — Imperial Carriage, Returning to the Palace]
The carriage rocked gently through the sleeping capital, wheels whispering against cobblestone. Moonlight streamed through the glass, painting pale rivers across my lap.
Silence pressed close, broken only by the steady rhythm of hooves—Sir Haldor's horse keeping perfect pace beside us.
I leaned back, eyes half-closed, letting the rhythm lull my anger into something colder. Outside, the city looked peaceful. Too peaceful. As if it hadn't just watched its Crown Princess turn a ballroom into a battlefield.
Marshi purred softly at my feet, his tail flicking against my gown—a steady, comforting rhythm that matched the pulse of the carriage wheels. Even he could sense it.
The weight of what I'd done. The silence of an empire that now looked at me with fear instead of reverence.
"Are you regretting it, my dear?" Papa's voice cut through the quiet—smooth, low, unreadable.
