The carriage traveled through Hiddleston in silence.
It was past midnight.
The town had not yet reached the pale hour before dawn, but night had grown thin and heavy around the streets. Darkness remained over the roofs and harbor, yet the air carried the first cold breath that came before morning. Mist drifted from the sea and moved between the narrow buildings, swallowing alleyways and gathering beneath the wheels of the carriage.
The horses continued at a steady pace.
Their hooves struck the dirt road.
The wheels rolled over loose stones and uneven ground, shaking the carriage with every turn. Airam sat inside without speaking. Valdris rode across from her with a satisfied smile.
Neither looked at the other.
The streets outside were mostly empty.
Only taverns remained open.
