Her father placed a hand on her head, brushing her hair in soothing strokes. He also pulled her closer and placed her head on his lap. He could tell that she was slowly drifting to sleep.
The steady motion of the carriage and the warmth of her father's touch lulled her into a deep sleep. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt at peace.
How long has it been? She did not remember. But looking at the fading image of her brother as her tired eyes closed, she felt at peace. She wished it lasted forever.
The weight of the recent events—the confrontation with the Holy Temple, the uncertainty of Benedict's absence—faded into the background.
She knew the peace wouldn't last, that the Holy Temple would not give up so easily. But for now, she allowed herself to believe that things would be okay.
