Walking towards him was torture. He seemed so far away from her.
Gulping, she smoothed hand over her dress and walked forward.
His gaze was distant, before he looked away.
Yeren helped her into the carriage, despite the assistance offered by the carriage rider.
The man nodded and returned to his station behind the reins.
He climbed in after her, sitting across her with his hands clasped.
She pretended to not notice him, trying to stare out the window. But his presence drew her like a moth to a flame.
She kept looking - it felt like she just had to.
He was wearing a black cloak - a different one.
She realized that he hadn't asked her to return the cloak he had lent her - even though it was his favourite.
Her cheeks stained as she realized that she had carelessly left it in Aurora's room.
What kind of a person was she to do such a thing?
Beneath the cloak, a fitting brocade framed his chiseled body.
He didn't do his hair in the style all the peers were caught up in.
