The moment I crossed the gates of Avador, the exhaustion hit me like a wave. My body ached from the long ride back, my mind a storm of thoughts I couldn't settle. The cold clung to me, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest. Every second, I wished Atlas was here. Every second, I wanted his voice, his presence, his warmth.
And yet, I had no time to dwell on it.
Because the moment I stepped off my horse, a familiar voice rang through the courtyard.
"Your Grace"
I barely had time to turn before Roselle practically threw herself at me, her red curls bouncing as she grabbed my hands. Her eyes were wide, brimming with questions she was clearly struggling to contain.
"Goddess above, you look like death," she blurted, before gasping. "Wait—what happened at the border? We've been dying to know! Did you really ride out in the middle of the night? Kaleb wouldn't let us send anyone after you, the bastard."