The vehicle came to a gentle stop in front of the grand light-stone staircase leading up to the palace doors. Leofrik was the first to open the door, offering his hand naturally, as if it were the most ordinary thing in his world.
“Allow me, Hel.”
Helena hesitated for just a second before taking his hand. The warmth of his palm enveloped her, firm and protective, as she stepped down gracefully, her black suit hugging each movement with a soft whisper of fabric. The morning air was filled with the scent of pines and damp grass, and a light breeze stirred a strand of her hair, which Leofrik gently tucked behind her ear before letting go.
The palace rose before her, imposing yet not ostentatious. It was a structure of grey stone with dark slate roofs and large windows that reflected the cl
