The crowd on the docks shifted as my father turned and strode toward his waiting horse. Margot and Mae retreated to their carriage. I watched them leave, trailing along the street, protected by their guards, until they were swallowed up by the city. They’d follow the streets that wound past white buildings to the castle. They’d return to their life, while I sailed into mine. The soldiers left next, followed by the merchants, who filtered to their stalls. To the work that would consume them until dusk and put food on their tables. Only one person remained on the docks as we sailed out of Roslo
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