The carriage was already moving when I settled into my seat.
Darius sat opposite me, his posture relaxed but composed, one arm resting lightly against the side as the city passed behind him in muted motion. He had not explained where we were going, and I had not asked again after the first time.
There was no need.
If he intended for me to see it, I would.
The rhythm of the carriage was steady as we moved through the outer roads of the estate before merging into the wider streets of the capital. The shift was immediate. The air changed. Movement increased. Voices carried more weight, even when softened by distance.
Through the window, I watched the city unfold.
Merchants lined the streets, their goods arranged with practiced precision. Messengers moved quickly between intersections. Carriages passed in both directions, some marked, others deliberately plain. Every part of it felt structured, even in its noise.
It wasn't separate from Darius's world.
It was part of it.
