Esme found herself standing at the tall gates of Lennox's domain, her expression a clear sign of her bewilderment.
Her fingers absently brushed the crescent moon pendant around her neck, wondering how she got here, and to her surprise, the pendant shimmered softly, catching her eye just as the clamor from within the palace grounds pulled her attention.
It was a cloudless day in Illyria, but then, the tall golden gates creaked open, and Esme's entire body froze. Lennox, or rather, the younger version of him, dressed in royal attire, appeared on a striking white steed, his expression as cold and indifferent as the moonlight.
The horse he mounted on suddenly advanced forward, and Esme's breath hitched at the sight trailing behind it.
