They left at ten on Friday evening.
No convoy. No escort. No announcement to anyone except Damon and Mira, who had their respective instructions and their respective communication protocols and who had both, in their respective ways, looked at Seraphina and Kael with the specific expression of people watching something inevitable reach its final approach.
Damon had pulled Kael aside for thirty seconds before they left the lodge. Seraphina had not heard what was said. When Kael came back his expression carried something that looked like the aftermath of being told something true by someone who loved him enough to say it plainly.
Mira had simply embraced Seraphina at the castle’s east wing gate — briefly, firmly, the embrace of someone who understood that words were insufficient and physi
