The sun had barely cleared the distant mountains when Noel stepped out of the grand front hall of the Estermont estate. The marble beneath his boots was still cold from the night air, and a thin layer of morning mist lingered over the vast courtyard.
A sleek dark red carriage awaited him near the front gate, its frame marked with elegant Estermont sigils in black and gold. Two powerful gray stallions stood ready, reins held by a tall, stoic butler already seated on the driver's bench.
Beside the carriage stood Elyra and her father, Lord Caeron.
Noel approached, dressed in his navy travel coat, sword sheathed at his side. Noir padded silently beside him.
"Good morning," Noel greeted.
"Good morning," Elyra replied, her voice calm.
Caeron's sharp gaze swept over Noel, taking in the scene.
"You're not bringing anything else?" he asked, brow slightly raised. "It's a few days' ride, even with a carriage. And I see only your sword, that dog… and a small pouch."
