Daphne's POV
The carriage wheels churned against the cobblestone path. Outside my window, the countryside swept by in patches of green and gold. I pressed my lips together to suppress the satisfaction threatening to bloom across my face.
Cyrus was gone. Truly gone. I had witnessed his final moments myself earlier that morning, watched the council members of Willow Brook deliver their ultimate verdict. The memory tasted sweet on my tongue. I found myself returning to it again and again, savoring each detail like fine wine.
"You look pleased." Mother's voice sliced through my reverie.
I shifted to face her. She sat with perfect posture, her spine straight and hands clasped in her lap. Her traveling dress was her finest dark navy silk that lent her an air of dignified concern. The picture of a devoted mother undertaking a distressing journey to visit her troubled child.
Our charade had already commenced.
