The courtyard was nearly silent now, save for the soft rustle of autumn leaves and the distant sound of hooves receding toward the gates.
Queen Aveline stood, and watched the Valeidio entourage fade into the horizon, her thoughts lingering on King Xavian's gratitude and the royal family's unspoken worry for Prince Eirik. But more than anything, her gaze lingered on her daughter, Abigail, who seemed lost in thought, holding a small pendant tightly in her hand.
Aveline's eyes softened as she observed Abigail's rare vulnerability.
She wondered if her daughter's guarded heart, had started opening to the Valeidio prince? Abigail had always been self-reliant, composed, and unflinchingly cool in her demeanor.
It had never occurred to Aveline that she would find her daughter so taken by someone. And yet, there she was, her fingers delicately wrapped around a pendant as though it were a lifeline.
