11
Dryas
On the long return to the castle, I sit in the back seat of the SUV and look out the window, watching the scenery change. At first, it’s cold and rocky as we drive down out of the Alps. I rest my head against the window and my breath fogs up the glass.
Hours pass. I doze off for a while, waking up when the driver stops for petrol.
Gradually as I watch, my surroundings change, everything growing warmer and more Mediterranean as we progress. The driver keeps navigating the car down, down… I suppose that the castle is at sea level, so that seems right.
Leaning my head back, I can’t help but think of when I drove Rue almost exactly down this route. It was the first day I met her if you can call kidnapping meeting someone. She was in the trunk, passed out in that high-necked weddi
