The forest was quiet except for the steady rhythm of her horse's hooves and the low rustle of leaves in the wind. Aveloria hadn't planned on going this far, but the deeper she went, the lighter her chest felt. The palace was far behind her now, its lights no longer visible through the thick trees. For once, there was no guard, watchful eyes, or duty pressing against her shoulders.
She slowed her horse to a walk, letting the cool air wash her face. The night was silent. She was close to the borders—maybe too close—but she didn't care. She needed to breathe without anyone telling her how she should act or what she should feel.
She was about to urge the horse forward again when she felt it.
