9 April, 1369. Magdaline Castle, Islia.
Celia stood next to her mother on the landing of the grand stone steps leading from the main castle doors, to the entry courtyard. She watched with dull eyes as her Haviettenese servants scurried around the carriages and wagons, checking possessions had been carefully loaded for the long journey back.
Though she kept her expression flat, she could feel a yawning chasm inside her chest.
The sorrow of having to leave was killing her.
The past few days had been spent in quiet enjoyment of her closest family. Celia had gone for long walks with her siblings and played endless games of chess with Augustin. Their good natured bickering and teasing had made her laugh, and helped cocoon her from the sudden loss of Sabine.
But now she had to leave, and who knew if she'd ever see any of them again.