Hyacinth’s POV
I stared down at Vince’s arms as he carried me, my cheeks burning with frustration. I could feel his tension, but I refused to acknowledge it. I had already lost the battle of escaping, but I wasn’t going to lose the war for my dignity.
The second we stepped into the village, he dropped me unceremoniously onto the cobblestone path.
"Ow," I muttered under my breath, rubbing my arms as I scrambled to my feet.
Before I could confront him about his rudeness, I became acutely aware of the countless eyes staring at me. People paused in their work—some carrying baskets of goods, others tending to stalls—to gape at the strange girl in tattered clothing standing beside Vince. Their gazes were sharp and unkind, and I felt the judgment cutting through me.
I swallowed hard, wishing
