LUCY
The vehicle Tavric managed to secure isn't a sleek town car of some wealthy fellow heading to the Virelan festivities but a lumbering, heavy-duty food truck. It is a rattling thing tasked with restocking the royal kitchen for the final, most lavish stages of the festivities.
I believe there would be remnants for the succeeding days too. Surely the to-be royals won't fast after the festivities?
My mouth tweaks. Why think of that? There will be no one taking the Drakonia throne, except for me. No, no one. I didn't put Amara through an agonizing experience just to come out a loser.
My wristwatch mocks me with its steady ticking: 10:00 AM. Every second that passes is a heartbeat closer to the end of a world and another.
