Beyond the royal city of the Kingdom of Northwind stretched an endless grassland. Bells chimed softly as herds of cattle and sheep roamed, prodded along by shepherds.
Victoria Ashwood lifted the carriage's curtain for a look. The grazing sheep were pristine, like white clouds on the plain. Letting the curtain fall, she turned to see another occupant in the carriage wearing an impatient expression, though that person showed no awareness of being an unwelcome presence—half the seat was taken up. Victoria would have to sit squeezed in beside them.
Lacking martial prowess, she had little choice but to tolerate it. She settled in, about to close her eyes when she heard the other woman snort.
"You want to kill me, don't you? It breaks my heart to think that," came the sarcastic remark.
Victoria didn't bother opening her eyes. "You flatter yourself, Princess Annabelle."