I stood by the window in the sitting room, smoothing my skirts for what must have been the tenth time in as many minutes. The carriage bearing my maternal grandmother had just passed through the gates of the estate. My heart raced with anticipation and no small amount of trepidation.
"She's here," I whispered to myself, watching the elegant vehicle approach the main entrance.
Clara had helped me dress with special care this morning—a deep emerald gown that complemented my eyes, my hair arranged in a sophisticated style that framed my face favorably. I wanted to make a good impression, though I wasn't entirely sure why it mattered so much to me. This woman had been absent from my life for as long as I could remember.
Alaric approached from behind, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. "You're trembling."
"Am I?" I hadn't even noticed. "It's just—I have so many questions, but I'm afraid of the answers."
