Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was even more somber than on the way there.
Aurora sat quietly beside Murphy, her gaze sweeping past the fields rushing backward outside the window, occasionally falling back on Murphy's serene profile.
Eleanor sat opposite them, her calm, dark eyes fixed on her father.
The faces of the Count and the Priest, a mixture of hope and excitement that ultimately dissolved into immense disappointment and even bewilderment, replayed in her mind.
She pursed her lips slightly. Finally, as the carriage entered a tree-lined road where the light grew soft and dappled, she spoke softly:
"Father."
Murphy's gaze shifted from the window to his daughter's face.
