CHLORENDIA
The carriage lurched and jolted as we rolled over another dip in the road. I kept my eyes glued to the trees speeding by, pretending the scenery was more interesting than the silence wedged between my father and me. Not that we were particularly close even before our last argument. Our relationship was nothing more than an arrangement—a necessary formality. He had raised me with the same level of attachment you'd have for a weapon. Keep it sharp, keep it close, and when you need it, wield it for power.
