Private Jet, En Route to Norvale - Monday Morning, 9:34 AM
Emily stared out the window at clouds passing below, her heart pounding harder with each mile that brought her closer to home. Somewhere beneath those clouds was Norvale. The country she'd been forced to flee three years ago. The country where her parents had been murdered. The country that was rightfully hers.
Timothy sat beside her, his hand holding hers, providing silent support. Ming Li was in the back of the jet, doing one final weapons check with an intensity that would have been alarming if Emily didn't know her so well.
Sebastian was coordinating through his headset with multiple teams: "Ground convoy ETA to Meridian Field: fifteen minutes. UN observers landing at main airport in twenty-six minutes. Local intelligence confirms heavy military presence in capital—Marcus has deployed extra security throughout the city. All teams, maintain radio silence until Princess Emily is wheels-down."
