Aveline stood before the so-called "cage" Theron had mentioned, blinking at it as though she had misunderstood the entire language of the forest.
It was pulled by four horses, not because it was large, but because of the sheer magnificence of what it held.
It was not a cage at all.
It was a carriage.
No, more than that. It was a beautiful, extravagant carriage, polished and elegant, larger than any she had ever seen, the kind of vehicle that looked less like something meant for travel and more like something a king might use to make a dramatic entrance and ruin everyone else's self-esteem.
Aveline stared at it, then at Theron, her eyes narrowing in open skepticism.
He said nothing.
Of course, he said nothing. Instead, he simply reached out and opened the door.
Aveline's mouth parted slightly.
Her gaze moved back to the carriage, then to him again, then back to the carriage, as if her eyes were struggling to accept the insult of its existence.
This was her "cage"?
