It had been two days since we left Sharptown, and let me tell you, two days in a moving caravan is enough to make anyone appreciate solid ground again. As I wandered around our little camp, I couldn't help but admire the... stunning mediocrity of it all. Tents set up in no particular order, merchants fussing over goods as if they weren't selling the same junk in every town, and a small fire that seemed more dedicated to billowing smoke into everyone's face than actually providing warmth. Truly, a masterpiece of human ingenuity.

I needed a break from this. Leonard, of course, offered to send some of his men to accompany me on my stroll, bless his cautious little heart. But no, I declined. There's something about strolling through a forest alone that's more appealing than having half a dozen paranoid guards breathing down your neck. What could possibly go wrong in a forest filled with beasts that supposedly attack travelers? Sounds like a perfect evening to me.

As I wandered deeper into the woods, my mind drifted to the stories my grandmother told me about beasts, particularly wolves, that liked to prey on travelers taking this route. Now, logically, one would think avoiding such a path would be smart. But, you know, logic's a bit overrated when you're running late for a royal birthday party. I had to refuse any suggestion of taking a safer, longer route

Who needs safety when you have deadlines?

Leonard agreed without a second thought. You don't say no to a noble. Even when the noble insists on taking the dangerous path just to avoid being tardy. I'm sure he was silently cursing my decision but...

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It's not like wolves attack in massive packs or anything. Just a small flock of them, and honestly, what's a few wolves when you've already dealt with worse?.

As I kept walking, I spotted some local kids running around, grabbing apples from nearby trees. They looked happy, carefree. Ah, to be young and blissfully ignorant of the looming responsibilities of adulthood. Or worse, nobility. I briefly wondered what they must think of us—the merchants, the guards, and of course, me. 'Probably not much'.

We were just another caravan passing through, another group of travelers on the road to who-knows-where.

Leonard had wisely stopped the caravan near a small village for the horses to rest. I couldn't be bothered to learn the name of the village because, frankly, it didn't matter. Small villages on the road to the capital were as common as the gossip that spreads among them. Stop, rest, move on—it was all part of the routine. The horses needed a break, and apparently, so did the merchants. I guess even they tire of hawking their wares day in and day out.

As I strolled back toward the caravan, my thoughts briefly flickered to the Blackwood family. 'Has word of the battle in the forest reached them yet?' I doubt it. The beauty of being this far from home is that news travels to my grandmother as slowly as possible.

Sending word to my family once I reached the capital seemed like the right move, if only to reassure them that their sacrificial lamb hadn't been devoured just yet. They'd need to know I'm still alive, still moving, and still doing my duty as a Blackwood, despite the best efforts of both nature and bandits to turn me into roadkill.

Even if a spy were embedded within the Blackwood ranks—and I wouldn't be surprised if there was—what could they do? By the time they realize I'm in the capital, I'll already have made my presence known, with or without their knowledge.

With a small, almost amused sigh, I turned back toward the caravan. It's funny how life always seems to circle back to duty, responsibility, and obligations. And here I was, playing my part, pretending it all mattered. 'Ah, the joys of nobility.'