Chase's pov
Greyson emerged from the castle after the commotion.
He was limping. Still leaning on his crutch. Still bruised. But he was moving.
My mother touched his arm.
"Grey-Grey," she said. "You'll ride with me."
He nodded. He didn't look at me. He didn't look at the carriage. He just walked to my mother's carriage and climbed inside.
I turned to mine.
I climbed into the carriage. I sat across from Tilly. She didn't look at me. She stared out the window, her face blank, her hands folded in her lap.
This was going to be a bumpy ride. I thought.
The carriage lurched forward. We were moving at last.
After thirty minutes, the silence was unbearable.
And so, i tried making conversations.
"Are you hungry?" I asked her, breaking the ice "I have some bread. Some water, sweetheart"
She didn't answer. Not even a goddamn word to acknowledge me.
"There's some fruit, too. Apples. You like apples, right. They're fresh."
