Maya's POV
Our final day in Solivian arrived wrapped in melancholy.
I said farewell to the villa where painted angels watched from the ceiling and every window opened to breathtaking views. Martha embraced me with the fierce affection of a lifelong friend, murmuring Valentian blessings while slipping a small wrapped bundle into my palm. Inside, I would later discover, were precious Castorian spices with a note reading "for homesick hearts." Felicity made promises to visit Aethelgard, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
Most difficult of all was saying goodbye to who we had become in this place.
Time was slipping away like sand through my fingers. The real world waited with all its complications, as inevitable as the storm clouds gathering over the hills during our drive to Florence.
