The carriage ride was brief. Damon sat slouched beside a visibly fuming Evangeline, the silence between them tense and crackling.
"Your home is quite beautiful, my lady…" Damon muttered with a grin, shifting slightly to face her.
"I expected them to rough us up a bit before we met the commander…"
She clenched her jaw, the veins in her temple twitching. "Shut up, Damon. Stop picking on me."
Sylvia glanced between them, sensing the powder keg about to ignite. The shackles around their wrists may have inhibited magic, but they did nothing to dull physical strength—and Evangeline's temper was always one sharp word away from snapping.
"Hmmm…" Sylvia mused aloud, breaking the tension.
"When you said we needed bail… who exactly was supposed to come bail us out? I mean, none of us even have pagers… and the knights didn't give us any to call…"
