[Ace's POV]
Ovelia's weight pressed gently against my chest as she slept, her breathing deep and even.
The night air carried the scent of damp earth and pine needles, clean and cold after the acrid smoke of battle. I tightened my arm around her waist, keeping her steady in the saddle. Her head lolled slightly against my shoulder, strands of blonde hair tickling my bare skin like whispered secrets. The horse's steady gait created a rhythmic motion that might have lulled anyone to sleep after such a long night.
For the past hour, a strange scent had been drifting from Ovelia's dress pocket. Something floral—honeysuckle, maybe—but with an underlying sharpness I couldn't identify. Like lightning trapped in a bottle. Like the air before a storm. It nagged at the edge of my awareness, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
