The "royal ride" smelled like expensive leather and Alina's strawberry perfume.
Because it was a vintage-style carriage, the seating was designed for two petite Victorian ladies, not three powerful Awakeners and a hyper girl with zero sense of personal space.
Severine found herself pinned.
On her right, Killian was a wall of solid muscles, his long legs tangled with hers as he tried to avoid crushing her.
While on her left, Alina was vibrating with enough energy to power the entire carriage, which a hidden driver was moving to make it look like a perfect magical ride.
"Alina," Killian's voice was low, vibrating through the small cabin.
"My elbow is currently in Severine's ribs. If you don't stop wiggling, I will throw you out of this ghost-trap."
"Then hold her properly. I am giving you a chance for physical romance, you dim-witted young master," Alina chirped, pulling a thermos out of the basket.
