The wagon rattled along the cobbled streets, its wooden wheels groaning under the weight of its passengers. Falko shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his back pressed against the worn cushions, but it wasn't the lack of comfort that bothered him. Sitting directly in front of him was Countess Leona Neriberos, arms folded tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed on him like a hawk eyeing its prey.
Leena sat beside Falko, unusually quiet, her eyes trained on the floor. Falko stole a glance at her and noted how much more obedient and reserved she seemed in her mother's presence. He had seen Leena bold and assertive, commanding in battle or teasing him with her quick wit. But here, with the Countess nearby, Leena seemed like a different person entirely. Strict upbringing, perhaps, he thought to himself.
