The carriage was comfortable.
Nicer than the Hartwell carriage — newer, better-sprung. Noel sat back and watched the estate pass outside the window—different buildings at intervals, different sizes, the occasional person crossing the path between them.
He was aware of Joel looking at him.
He pretended not to be.
Joel had been looking at him for approximately ten minutes like someone who saw no reason to stop.
Noel looked at a tree.
He looked at a building.
He looked at a fence post before turning to look at Joel.
"What about the Hartwells?" he said.
Joel turned his gaze to the window, as if he had simply been looking out all these while.
"The deposed queen and your father," Joel said. "They'll be hanged tomorrow."
Noel said nothing.
"Their children become slaves," Joel continued. "The assets—" He paused. "There's talk of handing everything to you."
Noel turned and pointed at himself.
"Me," he said.
Joel shrugged.
