"I folded a paper swan, but it lacked your structural genius!"
Even Sir Lucas, the cold-blooded master assassin of the North, let out a deep sigh of relief, reaching out to gently pat the top of her head. "It is good to see you so cheerful, My Lady. The Archduke has been insufferable without your presence."
Seraphina giggled, hugging Boris's neck. "I missed you guys too! Did you bring me any snacks? The chef uncle here is making me eat spinach!"
Standing a few yards away, hovering near the open door of the carriage and clutching a stack of registration forms, was Alistair.
The Chief Administrative Aide looked at the emotional reunion with an expression of soul-deep nausea. His flawless, porcelain face was twisted into a harsh cringe, his emerald eyes rolling so far back into his head it was a miracle they didn't get stuck.
