As the carriage doors swung open, sunlight streamed into the small space, and Amaris instinctively flinched, blinking against the sudden brightness. But then, the sight outside made her stomach churn. On the left, a line of lady servants stood in perfect formation, their heads bowed in deference, with their head handmaiden poised at the front. On the right, soldiers were lined up with their chins held high, their swords grounded but ready, as if silently affirming their king's presence.
Alaric stepped out first, every movement fluid and controlled. The sun caught his striking blue eye, making it gleam like polished steel. He commanded attention effortlessly, and Amaris could already see how Rosalind's eyes widened in awe at his figure, her breath caught at the sight of him.
No... Amaris
