Airam opened her eyes abruptly.
For a few seconds, she did not know where she was.
The garden had been so clear.
Then the carriage lurched.
The hard rattle of wheels against the road pulled her fully awake.
Horse hooves struck the ground in a rapid rhythm beyond the carriage walls. Leather harnesses creaked. Metal shifted outside as Valmorian soldiers rode beside the carriage. The vehicle moved fast enough that every uneven stretch of road shook through the wooden frame.
Airam stared at the dark ceiling above her.
It had only been a memory.
A memory from before.
Now she sat inside a Valmorian carriage.
The crest carved into the panel near the door made that impossible to forget. A black crown above a silver sword. The symbol of the Imperial House.
Her father's House.
Her House.
Airam closed her eyes again.
This was reality.
She was being taken back to Valmoris.
