The afternoon sun had barely begun its descent over the capital when the iron gates of the Vane estate rattled with a violence that shook the stone pillars.
A brass-trimmed carriage thundered up the driveway, escorted by six mounted guards clad in steel armor. Their horses’ hooves kicked up clouds of dust, grinding to a sharp halt right before the courtyard fountain.
Inside the glass-walled tea pavilion, Lyra was in the middle of pouring jasmine tea for Caspian. She paused, her hands freezing over the porcelain rim as the clatter of armored boots echoed across the courtyard.
"What is that ungodly noise?" Caspian snapped, setting his ledger aside with a scowl. "Are the imperial guards completely devoid of manners?"
Lyra’s heart took a sudden, strange plunge into her stomach. "Caspian...
