'W… What? Was he joking, or was he serious?' Knowing Zavren, he was serious.
She didn't understand why her heart was aching. She had wanted to ride with him—was he giving her some kind of warning not to try what she did this morning again?
"Let me guide you in," Zavren spoke quietly, and Ariana nodded, not realizing how the earlier calmness on her face was fading, almost into disappointment.
Zavren's eyes glinted.
"My wife," he said calmly, "tell me, do you agree with the arrangement?" His words trailed off as she curtsied at him gently and slowly toward the carriage door, which had been opened by a man with his head bowed low. Ariana moved and stepped into the carriage. Zavren's eyes widened slightly.
Did she agree to it?
But to his surprise, she sat down and lightly tapped the seat beside her. Zavren's quiet chuckle broke through the silence. The maids lining the opposite side lowered their heads more carefully, as if afraid to risk raising them—their eyes were in shock.
