Finally, they were just a day away from the Silverwoods. Fiore’s heart drummed with anticipation and dread. She was about to confront Reginald, and the truths she was bound to face weighed heavily on her mind. There were no more lies, no more deceits. A war was brewing, and this time, it was real. The cold, biting wind mirrored the tension she felt deep in her bones, but despite the looming threat of battle, she took solace in one fact—she wasn’t alone.
She turned her attention to Lance, who sat by the lake’s edge, his hands skillfully working a fishing line he had fashioned from scraps. He had already caught more than enough for their small group, yet he continued, as if prolonging the quiet serenity for just a little longer. It was rare to see him so at peace, and she couldn’t help but
