The carriage rolled to a gentle stop in front of Lord Gracil's home, the rhythmic clatter of hooves fading into stillness.
Through the small window, Circe could see the wide stone steps leading up to the grand entrance, flanked by marble columns entwined with creeping ivy.
The late morning sun shimmered over the manicured lawns and the wide fountain at the center of the courtyard, its waters catching the light like scattered jewels.
Inside the carriage, Circe sat across from Nieah. Neither spoke during the final stretch of the ride, though Nieah occasionally glanced at her, her calm presence a quiet reassurance.
When the driver jumped down and opened the door with a low bow, Nieah was the first to step out. Circe followed moments later, the hem of her beige silk gown brushing lightly against the carriage floor.
