Viola's face hardened with urgency, the sudden shift making Tiara's stomach clench with worry.
"What's wrong? Has something happened?" Tiara's eyes darted around their surroundings, searching for threats in the shadows.
"Don't interrupt me—just listen," Viola cut her off, words tumbling out in a desperate rush. Time was running short, and she could sense their pursuers drawing closer.
"When I tell you to run, sprint toward that direction as fast as you can. Someone's waiting there for you. You'll be safe."
Her finger stabbed toward the village. Viola couldn't accompany her mother—not in her condition. She'd remain here under the royal warriors' protection until Turner arrived.
Tiara couldn't be here during the fighting. Viola knew her mother too well—she'd throw herself into danger trying to rescue Reginald.
Though Tiara cherished Viola above all else, Reginald remained her son. The past months had forged new bonds between them.
