[Lavinia's POv]
I ran.
I didn't stop to ask when exactly he'd arrive.
I didn't ask how far he was, whether he was tired, or whether someone had offered him tea or an unnecessary political report on his return.
None of that mattered.
Because all I knew was that my papa—my world.
My terrifying, tyrant, tree-trunk-sized-palm-slap-you-on-the-head Papa. My everything—was finally home.
My boots echoed wildly down the marbled halls, clattering like a small thunderstorm. Stunned guards straightened. Nobles flattened themselves against the walls. Somewhere, I heard a vase fall.
My skirt whipped around my legs like a cape. My braid slapped me on the back of my neck with every wild step. I was a princess-shaped hurricane, and no one was going to stop me.
"PRINCESS LAVINIA, SLOW DOWN OR YOU'LL CRASH INTO A WALL—!" Osric yelled from behind.
CRASH.
There it was. Followed by a groan. Possibly maid-shaped.
I didn't stop.
