The Anjeluund men milled about in the yard as they waited for Brenna. Their horses pawed the gravel drive as their riders reined in their restless energy. Even the men were nearly vibrating with coiled motion, all wanting to head out but being hampered by the lateness of their leader's future daughter-in-law.

Morna waited near the back of the group, mounted on her horse and wrapped in a light riding cloak. She'd woken before the sun that morning in order to make sure her things were tidily packed and that her riding habit was in order. She'd braided her own hair in a sensible line down her back, and made sure to find a pair of sturdy boots that would take a harsh beating but were supple enough to spare her a bout of blisters. She'd eaten breakfast with the Glenfarrow men and gone with them as they'd met up with their entourage to discuss the plans for the travel. The aunts had said goodbye the night before, so Morna was the only occupant of the Grand House amongst the crowd of Anjeluunds. She felt a strange sense of foreboding that the chill of being an outsider would only get worse when she moved to their land and became one of only two Ittalans in the circle of Glenfarrow friends.

A few more minutes passed and finally the front doors opened and Brenna exited in a waft of silk and curled hair. She was not at all dressed for a long ride, and a ripple of murmurs traveled down the ranks of the men. Morna shifted in her saddle, her gaze flickering to Robbin. He stared at his fiancée, his lips a thin line. His jaw worked and he jumped from his horse, climbing the steps two at a time until his hand was around Brenna's arm. They whispered back and forth, too quiet for any of the others to hear, and then Brenna suddenly broke from him and waved to Morna. Robbin stood in the open doorway as Brenna skipped down the steps and over to Morna, a huge smile plastered on her face. As she came closer, Morna noticed red ringing her sister's eyes.

"Are you excited? It's finally the day!" Brenna sing-songed, slicking back her curled updo and sighing as she turned to inspect the men. "I think we'll make a good spectacle for anyone we pass." It was worded as a compliment, but Morna heard the undertone of condescension. It seemed Brenna was still upset over the hasty departure that barred any sort of theatrics for the future bride.

"Brenna, are you absolutely sure you don't want to change before we leave?" Morna asked, though she knew it would earn them no favors if Brenna delayed them another ten minutes.

"Don't be silly! I'm perfectly fine as I am!" Brenna smiled broadly at the staring men and swished her frothy skirts for a bit of flare. She did, admittedly, look stunning. Morna would never deny that her sister could turn out a good show. It was only that a week's long journey might not agree with such fabric and flimsy slippers. If they had any amount of walking to do Brenna would be at a loss.

With steely determination Brenna bounced to her horse, waiting for Robbin to assist her into the saddle. He took his own time, perhaps giving her a taste of what she'd dished out, and nearly tossed her over the other side when he gave her the boost. She shot him a brief glare, but was quick to replace her carefully joyful expression.

"Thank you, darling," she purred, running the tip of her slipper down the side of Robbin's arm. He frowned and turned away without a word, though Morna caught quite a few stares from the men directed at her sister's leg afterward.

In the gray light of dawn the Anjeluund party finally started their ride. The few servants of Grand House curtseyed and tipped their hats, but that was all for the farewell. No fanfare or weeping relatives. Merely a silence that spoke loudly of the indifference that the house had always showed toward its two youngest residences. Morna watched the façade fade slowly from sight as they rode farther down the road, and a feeling of sudden sadness weighed on her chest. She'd never quite thought of the building as her true home, even if she had spent the majority of her life under its roof, but it had been a safe haven when she needed it. A few tears fought their way free, and she quickly wiped them from her cheeks before setting her sights firmly on the Anjeluunds riding ahead of her.

------

By the second day, Morna felt the absence of water. Her little pond was far behind them and no streams or creeks passed by the road they were taking. The Pyrus was ahead of them, and that gave her some comfort, but it would be many more days before the body of water would take away the dizzying nausea that threatened to have her be sick all over the horse's mane. She constantly kept a fist pushed to her middle, pressing against the empty hole that opened as she moved across the dry fields.

Thankfully, none of the men seemed to notice her paling complexion and her sagging in the saddle. They were busy with keeping themselves entertained on the long ride, telling jokes and stories and grouping together in the little circles that their friendships created. Brenna rode at the front with Robbin and Robert, laughing loudly and trying to coax Robbin into some sort of conversation. Even from far back and through a haze of sickness, Morna could see he was having none of her frivolity. He firmly cut her off every time she drew his attention to her, and was quick to return to his father. Talk of war was much more important than Brenna's laugh.

A bought of dizziness forced Morna to duck her head and press her palm into her eye socket. She hissed quietly as images of waves and ripples flickered behind her eyelids, shouting in whispers for her to return. She shook her head firmly, muttering to try and keep her mind from ordering her legs to turn the horse around.

"Are you feeling well?"

The voice jolted Morna up, her head snapping to attention and her muscles tightening to try and control the nausea. Her eyes slowly focused on the face of Afton, riding a few feet to her side. She gave him a wavering smile and waved her hand in dismissal.

"I'm not used to riding, but I'll be fine in a few moments," she forced out, hoping it didn't sound as breathless as she thought.

Afton frowned, his horse circling hers, and his eyes taking in her every angle. She inwardly groaned, knowing that he wouldn't let it drop now.

"There's something amiss," he said. "Tell me."

Though it might have been an order, the way he said it sounded like a plea.