The carriage rolled away from the palace, carrying me past gates I had only ever glimpsed from tower windows.
At first, the road was familiar—or at least somewhat recognizable from the few excursions I'd been permitted within the capital. But the moment we passed beyond the outer wall, everything changed.
The world opened up before me like a book I'd never been allowed to read.
I pressed my face close to the carriage window, watching the landscape transform. Fields stretched endlessly under open sky. Farmhouses dotted the horizon. People—so many people—moved freely along the roads, traveling wherever they pleased.
I couldn't look away.
Callius's voice drew my attention back inside the carriage.
"Is there something in particular you're looking for?"
"Ah."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Had I been staring too obviously? I must have looked foolish, gawking like a child at a festival.
I smiled awkwardly, trying to compose myself.
"It's just... this is my first time traveling outside the city. Everything is so new. It's exciting."
Callius's eyebrows rose slightly—the only outward sign of his surprise.
"You've never been beyond the capital? Not even for a summer retreat or convalescence?"
"Never. This is my first time."
Because I lived as if I were imprisoned. Because Andrea made sure I never left.
Callius looked faintly troubled, as if realizing he'd stumbled upon something painful. But he didn't press for details.
I was grateful for that. I had no intention of explaining the full truth—not yet, anyway.
Instead, I turned back to the window, drinking in the sight of fields and forests and endless sky.
Then Callius spoke again, his tone shifting into something almost pedagogical—as if he were a tutor explaining a lesson.
"If you continue down this road, you'll reach wide, open farmland. We'll pass through it and follow the river northward. Eventually, we'll come to a small fortress."
My interest sharpened at the word fortress.
"A fortress? Does it have a teleportation circle?"
I had read about teleportation magic circles in books—massive arcane constructs that could transport people across vast distances in an instant. They were marvels of magic and engineering, but also vulnerabilities: convenient for travelers, but dangerous if enemies used them to invade.
That's why they were always built on the outskirts of cities, fortified by walls and guarded by soldiers.
Callius nodded.
"Yes. We'll use the circle to travel to Abene in the north. If we were to make the journey overland without stopping, it would take at least two months."
"Two months..."
The number hung in the air, almost incomprehensible.
Seeing my blank expression, Callius chuckled softly. He reached into his coat and withdrew a rolled piece of parchment, spreading it carefully across my lap.
The Arrental Map.
My breath caught.
Callius traced a path across the parchment with one gloved finger, his voice steady and patient.
"This is where we are now."
His finger rested on a small dot near the southern edge of the map—the imperial capital.
"Once we reach the fortress and activate the teleportation circle, we'll be transported here."
His hand moved in one smooth motion, sliding all the way to the very top of the map—so far north that the edges of the parchment seemed to blur into unknown territory.
"We'll arrive in Abene. And from there, we continue to Ronheim."
My mouth fell open.
The distance was staggering. The imperial palace—the only home I had ever known—was nothing more than a tiny speck on this vast canvas.
The world is so much bigger than I ever imagined.
"Where exactly is Ronheim?"
Callius's finger shifted off the edge of the map entirely, pointing to empty air beyond the parchment's border.
"Around here. The Arrental maps don't show Ronheim—it lies beyond the empire's recognized borders."
"It sounds very far from Abene as well."
"It is. You'll need to be determined. The road ahead will not be easy."
His golden eyes met mine, gleaming with something unreadable—concern, perhaps. Or warning.
"Once you enter Ronheim, you may never return. The journey there—and any journey back—will be perilous. Life-threatening, even."
It was a grim statement, delivered without dramatics. He wasn't trying to frighten me.
He was simply telling me the truth.
I clenched my fists, summoning every ounce of resolve I possessed.
"I understand. I'll do my best."
Then, unexpectedly, I laughed—a soft, relieved sound that surprised even me.
A place so remote that Andrea can never reach me. A place where his influence means nothing.
The thought filled me with something dangerously close to joy.
"Thank you."
Thank you for taking me to a place where I can finally be safe.
Callius tilted his head slightly, studying my expression with that strange, unreadable look again.
But he said nothing.
We arrived at the fortress sooner than I expected.
Despite being a military installation—not a town or settlement—the interior was bursting with life. A sprawling market had taken root inside the fortified walls, with stalls crammed into every available space.
Merchants lined the narrow walkways, perched on staircases, squeezed into alcoves along the stone walls. Everywhere I looked, there were people.
"Dried provisions! Best quality in the fortress!"
"Shoes for every terrain! Leather, wood, reinforced soles!"
"Protective gear! Leather vambraces, gloves, travel cloaks!"
The merchants called out enthusiastically, pursuing travelers with relentless energy. Some people looked annoyed. Others stopped to browse, haggling over prices with practiced ease.
I watched it all with wide eyes, utterly fascinated.
So this is what the world looks like outside the palace.
Our group was larger than most—between Callius, his knights, and the servants, we made quite the procession. I secretly hoped that the merchants would flock to us, eager to sell their wares.
But they didn't.
Instead, they glanced at our party, then quickly stepped aside, clearing a path for us to pass without obstruction.
No one approached. No one tried to sell us anything.
I felt oddly disappointed.
"Why aren't they coming to us?"
Callius answered calmly, as if the answer were obvious.
"They can tell we're from the North."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because there's nothing here they can sell us. Most merchants in this fortress don't carry goods suited to northern tastes or needs. The snow-covered terrain limits the types of items that are useful to us."
"Oh... I see."
I nodded, though I didn't entirely understand.
I had already asked so many questions. Surely Callius would grow tired of my endless curiosity soon.
Everyone always does.
Andrea used to sigh when I asked too much. The tutors would dismiss my questions as irrelevant. The palace staff would ignore me entirely.
I had learned, over the years, to stay quiet. To stop asking. To accept ignorance as the price of not being a burden.
But Callius didn't sigh. He didn't dismiss me.
Instead, he observed my hesitant expression—and began to explain.
"For example, in the North, we rarely use leather water bottles."
I blinked, surprised that he was continuing without being asked.
"The water freezes solid in the cold, which makes the bottle useless—and potentially dangerous if it bursts. More importantly, fresh snow falls every day. Clean, drinkable snow. There's no need to carry water when you can simply melt what's around you. If anything, it's better to carry flint and tinder to make fire."
"Oh! That makes sense..."
"Similarly, you can't wear ordinary cloth or leather shoes in the North. Walking through snow gets them wet almost immediately, and wet shoes lead to frostbite. In Ronheim, we only wear boots made from specially treated hide—waterproof and insulated against the cold."
He gestured toward the marketplace as he spoke, pointing out examples of the goods he was describing.
I listened, completely absorbed.
As Callius explained, I found myself studying him as much as I was listening to his words.
The way his golden eyes focused on me—intent, patient, as if my understanding truly mattered to him.
The way his voice grew slightly more animated when he spoke about the North, as if he took genuine pleasure in sharing what he knew.
The subtle gestures of his hands as he illustrated a point. The tilt of his head when he paused to check if I was still following.
He wasn't annoyed. He wasn't dismissive.
If anything, he seemed... pleased that I was asking.
I can't believe there's someone besides Karl who talks to me like this.
My heart began to beat a little faster—the same fluttering sensation I'd felt on our engagement day.
I liked that he answered my questions. I liked that he didn't make me feel foolish for asking.
So I kept asking. About everything. Every small detail that caught my curiosity, no matter how trivial it seemed.
And Callius kept answering.
We talked for so long that I lost track of time entirely.
At some point, the carriage came to a stop—but I didn't notice until Callius gently interrupted our conversation.
"I'll be sure to answer any further questions you have as we continue. But for now, I think we should move on."
I blinked, startled.
"Are we using the teleportation circle now?"
"Not quite yet. There's somewhere we need to stop first."
He opened the carriage door and stepped out, offering me his hand.
I took it, stepping down onto the cobblestone courtyard—and found a woman waiting for us.
She looked to be in her late twenties, dressed in practical traveling clothes with a merchant's apron tied around her waist. Her expression brightened when she saw Callius.
"It's been a while, Marquis. You look well."
"You too, Rhonda. Where's Polletto?"
"My husband went hunting in Abene with his companions. They ran out of Nyack hide."
She glanced at me briefly, then back at Callius.
"Brentian mentioned you were looking for women's clothing?"
"Do you have anything suitable?"
"Of course! I just finished a few sets recently. Who will be wearing them?"
Callius turned, gesturing toward me where I stood half-hidden behind him.
"My wife."
Rhonda's eyes—and the eyes of everyone in Callius's retinue—turned toward me.
I felt suddenly very small under their scrutiny.
Callius, oblivious to my embarrassment, continued speaking.
"You won't last more than a few minutes in the North wearing what you have on now. Rhonda is the only merchant in this fortress who sells proper northern gear. Everything she offers is top quality—you can trust her completely."
I glanced down at my dress.
I thought I'd dressed warmly. This is the thickest gown I own.
But compared to the heavy furs and insulated layers Callius and his knights wore, my dress looked absurdly delicate.
A man with blue hair—one of Callius's retainers—stepped forward, addressing me with careful politeness.
"Your Highness, I am Viscount Brentian Kripp, your aide. I know this may seem sudden, but we were forced to bring you here because nowhere in the Arrental capital makes clothing suitable for the snowfields. Rhonda is a merchant we've trusted for years."
His tone was respectful, but his expression was strangely tense—as if he were bracing for a reprimand.
I blinked, confused.
Then I looked around.
Not just Brentian—all of Callius's knights were watching me with the same rigid, apprehensive expressions.
Even Callius himself seemed slightly guarded.
What... why do they all look so worried?
They were waiting for me to be offended.
Waiting for me to complain, to protest, to demand imperial luxuries.
They didn't yet know—
I had never felt freer in my life.
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