"We need to hurry," Mother whispered urgently, her eyes darting to the window where Duke Thorne's men patrolled below. The darkness outside offered some cover, but I knew their numbers had doubled since yesterday.
I fumbled with the few possessions I'd decided to take—a small portrait of my father, a silver hairbrush, and the pearl necklace Mother had given me on my sixteenth birthday. My hands trembled so badly I could barely close the small traveling bag.
"Clara, focus!" Mother hissed, already dressed in her plainest traveling gown. "We have perhaps fifteen minutes before they change patrol positions."
"I'm trying," I said, wiping away tears I hadn't realized were falling. "I just... I never thought it would come to this."
