The road to the Dorne estate was long, muddy, and suspiciously full of potholes.
"Are you sure this is a noble family's land?" Mira asked, eyeing the creaking carriage wheel like it might collapse at any second.
"It's technically noble," I replied. "But so is an abandoned chicken farm if the right people signed a scroll three centuries ago."
Felix sat across from me, clutching the letter he still hadn't let anyone else read. His face was pale. His eyes distant. He hadn't said much since we left.
Which, naturally, meant I had to say everything.
"You know," I mused aloud, "most nobles send letters that say things like 'Come home, my heir, and inherit the vineyards.' Yours felt more like, 'Return at once or the pigs will eat your bedroom.'"
Felix blinked. "What?"
"Don't worry about it."
Leo groaned, holding his stomach. "How much longer? I think I'm getting motion sickness from trauma."
Mira leaned in. "You don't get motion sickness from trauma."
"I do now!"
