In the early spring evening, the chill still lingered heavily. The setting sun cast the two of their shadows long across the withered yellow grass, where specks of fresh green had begun to emerge.
In the distance, wisps of cooking smoke rose from the direction of Carnford City, mingling with the evening haze to form a tranquil picture utterly at odds with the turmoil churning in their hearts.
They walked for a long time in silence.
At last, Karl spoke again. He stopped, turned around, and faced Louise. "Charlotte... has returned."
Louise seemed to have expected it. She was not terribly surprised, though her face grew several shades paler. Lowering her head to stare at the tips of her shoes, she waited a long while before saying in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, "I... could tell."
She paused, as though it took every ounce of strength in her body to force out the next sentence. Her voice trembled. "Then... I'll leave."
"Where can you go?" Karl asked.
Louise abruptly raised her head. Her eyes instantly brimmed with tears, glittering with fractured light beneath the setting sun. "I'll go back to the Royal Capital!"
The words nearly burst from her mouth, yet the moment they fell, bewilderment—and a deeper despair—appeared on her face.
Go back to the Royal Capital? What was waiting for her there? Her stepmother, Empress Dowager Katerina, who had treated her as nothing more than a chess piece, without a shred of warmth? Henry, who was little more than a hostage?
To her, the Royal Capital had never been home. It was merely a magnificent yet frigid cage, a stage for the crushing struggle of power.
When she had been "married off" to the Northern Border, it had, in some sense, been a form of