"No—no, it's okay, you can just stay here…"
I quickly raised my hand in front of the driver, stopping him from following.
The air was cool and faintly sweet, carrying the scent of wet earth and morning mist. We were already standing by the lakeside, the car parked behind us, its wheels half-sunk in soft soil.
I looked around, trying to match the place with what I remembered from the book — the old willow, the uneven stones, the quiet ripple that caught the light just right.
Somewhere here. It had to be.
"But my lady," the driver said hesitantly, taking a cautious step forward, "I really should walk you to Lord Drake for your safety—"
"Hmm?" I turned, blinking at him. "Oh, right. I forgot to ask… what's your name, sir?"
He looked startled by the question. "Ah—" Straightening immediately, he brushed invisible dust from his coat and bowed slightly. "Forgive me, my lady. I'm Marek, of the Kirin Clan."
"Kirin Clan?" I echoed, curiosity slipping into my tone. "What's a Kirin?"
