Chapter 93: Under the Oak Tree
The air between them was still tight from Brynhild's huff and Lysander's warning, but the two guards waiting at their sides looked on patiently. Snow crunched under boots, cloaks, and runners alike, the morning light brightening the silver and blue streamers stretched between the houses behind them.
Lysander exhaled through his nose, a visible stream of warmth in the cold air. His eyes flicked from Brynhild's stubborn expression to the guards' expectant ones. With a resigned sigh, he inclined his head. "We'd appreciate the escort," he said evenly, his tone clipped but not unkind.
Brynhild muttered something under her breath, her fingers tightening around the small parcel in her lap. After a beat, she raised her head just enough to add, "Fine. We'd appreciate the escort, thank you." The words were soft enough to nearly vanish in the hush of the morning. Then, quieter still, she leaned toward Lysander and murmured, "Sorry."
