***Cassius***
The journey took a little over a day.
By the time the carriage crossed the last stone bridge leading into Dravenshire, the afternoon sun had already begun its slow descent across the western sky.
I rested my elbow against the window frame and watched the city appear.
It hadn't changed.
White stone buildings rose in neat, orderly rows beyond the outer walls, rooftops catching the light until the whole city looked washed in gold. Banners bearing House Draven's crest hung from the balconies, moving faintly in a wind I couldn't feel from inside the carriage.
A year ago, I would have looked at those streets and felt my chest tighten before we'd even reached the gates. I would have already been rehearsing my face, deciding which smile to wear, bracing for the version of myself that had to survive the people.
Now I just watched the city pass. My chest stayed light, my hands stayed still in my lap.
