"Princess Airam."
Airam raised her gaze.
Every trace of emotion disappeared from her face when she saw Valdris seated across from her.
"We will arrive at the harbor soon," Valdris said. "From there, we will take a ship east. It will carry us toward your home."
"Valmoris is not my home," Airam replied.
Her voice was cold.
Valdris watched her for a moment.
"What else would you call home, Princess?" he asked. "A coven? A minor village? The household of a Count?"
Airam did not answer.
None of those places were truly home.
Not the coven.
Not the village where witches had once lived before blood and fire destroyed it.
Not the Rubenhart Estate, no matter how long she had stayed there.
Home had never been a palace, a title, a room, or a piece of land.
Home had always been her family.
Where Hermione and Esther were, that was home.
Nothing else mattered.
And Valmoris would never be home again.
There had been a time when she believed otherwise.
A foolish time.
