Nina still looks a little gobsmacked, but she climbs out of the carriage and extends a hand toward me before a footman can escort me down the steps. It's a hand that represents opportunity: the chance to finally establish myself beyond the mysterious bastard princess and the promised child with no voice beyond performing miracles.
The sun is pounding down overhead, but it does little to stop the fully formed PR smile that spreads across my face. I've made it! I've left the palace. I wait for the familiar panic to ring through my chest, but perhaps due to this excursion being entirely of my choosing, I can't find the previous fears within me.
"Your highness," the few noble guests near the entrance of the Laroche Estate quickly curtsey in greeting.
