Sairis's POV
The carriage rocked again, the wheels hitting a rough patch on the road, and Sairis let out a quiet sigh as he steadied himself against the seat.
"Do you think she will be strong enough when we arrive?" Henrietta asked, her voice softer than usual.
Sairis did not answer immediately.
His eyes were fixed on Candice, who was resting against Henrietta's shoulder, her face pale, her breathing slow and uneven. She looked too fragile, too tired, nothing like the composed lady who had stood in the hall and accepted a prince's proposal without hesitation.
He exhaled slowly. "Let us hope she will be," he said at last.
Henrietta glanced down at Candice, her face tightening. "Hope will not carry her up those stairs, Sairis," she replied quietly. "You saw her this morning. She could barely stand."
Another jolt ran through the carriage, and Sairis clenched his jaw.
