The late afternoon sun poured its golden light across the estate, stretching shadows long and thin, while a soft breeze carried with it the scent of earth, leather, and wildflowers. It should have been serene, yet every breath I took felt weighed down by the ride, the proximity, and the storm of thoughts I had tried—and failed—to quiet.
The ride had ended, but the fluttering in my chest persisted. The gravel crunched underfoot as we approached the courtyard, the air thick with the kind of tension that had settled over the ride and refused to dissipate. The horse's flanks gleamed faintly from the ride as it shifted its weight with a quiet snort. I could feel the tension humming in the air, subtle but insistent, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
I kept my eyes on the cobb
