The carriage ride to Sapphire Tower was a strange one.
On one side sat Channing and Genevieve, and across from them sat Adam.
The old scholar and the eccentric, raven-haired youth continued to chat away as though they were old pals.
Meanwhile, Genevieve remained silent. She observed them — especially Adam — with her hands gracefully resting on her lap and a faint, reserved smile on her face.
The more she watched him, the stranger he seemed.
At times, he spoke with the caution and awareness of a seasoned adventurer who had gone through many ups and downs in his life. While at other times, he spoke in a carefree manner with the enthusiasm of a teenager.
He was polite, but guarded.
Friendly, yet distant.
Even while speaking to Channing, his eyes occasionally swept past the windows, quietly taking stock of the people, the streets, and possible exits.
Very cautious, she mused.
Most curious of all was how difficult he was to read.
