The relocation of the Arindale Court to the Summer Estate was a logistical nightmare that involved fifty carriages, three hundred trunks, and a frankly unnecessary amount of screaming.
Kaia sat in the velvet-lined carriage beside her sister, watching the dense, ancient forests of the North blur past the window. The capital with its heavy stone walls was hours behind them. The air was already changing—smelling less of polished marble and more of pine needles, damp earth, and impending disaster.
"I detest the country," Victoria complained, adjusting her lace traveling veil. "There are bugs. And mud. And the humidity does terrible things to silk."
"The Empress says it is the cradle of romance," Kaia muttered, staring at a passing tree.
"The Empress is a romantic fool who doesn't have to clean her own hems," Victoria snapped. "And I noticed Grand Duke Valerius is riding in the vanguard. He has taken a sudden, intense interest in our family, Kaia."
"He is just being a polite guest."
