No one spoke on the ride back down the hill.
The carriage rocked and jolted over the frozen ruts of the road, and the jade-green curtains swayed with every bump, letting in occasional slivers of pale winter light. Outside, the afternoon had begun to fade. The sun hung low over the mountains, and the shadows of the bare trees grew longer as they stretched the snow in the hollows.
Eira sat beside Jocelynn with her hands folded in her lap, and she did her best not to stare. Sir Ollie had said they should think of a visit to the Ancient Oak like visiting an elder, but nothing had prepared her for what actually happened beneath the mighty tree's boughs. Clearly, the princess hadn't been prepared for it either.
Jocelynn hadn't said a word since they'd climbed into the carriage. She sat very straight, her back not quite touching the cushions, while her gaze stayed fixed on the window as if the passing trees held the secret to dealing with the Ancient Oak's message.
