In the courtyard of Blackwell Manor, the squawks of gulls filled the air, their cries carrying over the rhythmic crash of waves against the distant seawall. A cool, salty breeze blew through the courtyard, rustling the banners that hung from the stone walls and carrying with it the pungent scent of fish from the nearby harbor.
Jocelynn Blackwell pulled her fur-trimmed cloak tighter, the soft fur tickling her cheeks as she fought against the chill. Beneath her feet, the cobblestones of the courtyard were slick with morning dew from the damp air, forcing her to tread carefully as she made her way to the waiting carriage.
The horses shifted restlessly, their hooves clopping against the stones and their tails twitching to chase away flies. Servants bustled about, their voices a low murmur beneath the screech of gulls as they secured trunks and crates to the waiting wagons.
