Inside the carriage, Vivianne drew in a steady breath. Her eyes shimmered gold as she touched the curtain with her fingertips. "Undine."
At her call, a soft glow rose from the floorboards, as though water itself had answered her voice. Droplets formed in the air, gathering and weaving together until a second veil descended over Tempest's barrier. It's smoother than the wind, silver-blue and translucent, its surface rippling like a living shield.
The two protections intertwined, wind sharp and untamed, water flowing and unyielding. Together, they wrapped the envoy in a fortress no enemy could breach without great cost.
The knights felt it. The Borgia line tightened their grip on their weapons, their eyes fierce behind polished visors. Behind them, the Wyndham men steadied as well, Anton's voice ringing low and firm as he gave the last adjustments to his own line. Fear thinned, resolve thickened.
Then the forest stirred.
