The snow-covered pine forest rolled past the SUV's window like a slowly unfurling painting, and Anastasia realized that there wasn't a single living sound out there.
No birds. No wind rustling the branches. Only the hum of the engine and the crunch of rubber tires against packed snow. In the side mirror, she could see the second SUV following fifty paces behind, carrying Khulafa, Ruslan, and her two royal guards. A journey that used to take two days for a tank and infantry convoy, Rianor had mentioned earlier, was now covered in a single full day. The sky had already tilted toward a deep orange by the time the trees began to close in.
"You've been quiet all morning," Rianor murmured, not taking his eyes off the road. His new glasses reflected the glare of the snow, and his right hand rested casually on the steering wheel, like a man who had memorized every single turn.
