The carriage rattled gently as it rolled over the cobblestone path, the rhythmic sound blending with the occasional chirp of birds. Beatrice sat across from me, reclining gracefully against the plush cushions as the golden morning light filtered through the carriage windows. She was dressed in a flowing crimson gown embroidered with delicate gold patterns, her usual air of confidence tempered by an easy smile.
I couldn't help but feel a bit lighter than usual. After all, this was a rare reprieve from the rigors of training and constant preparation. For once, I wasn't thinking about growing stronger or the cult, but simply the uncertainty of the events about to unfold.
"Well, look at you," Beatrice said, breaking the silence. "You almost look...relaxed. I was beginning to think you didn't know how to sit still."
I chuckled, leaning back and stretching my legs out. "You caught me on a good day. Don't get used to it."
