The trail wound through an ancient forest cloaked in early morning mist, its towering trees casting long shadows across the muddy path. The earth was soft beneath the horses’ hooves, muffled thuds mingling with the distant calls of morning birds. Althea, riding alongside the stoic Sir Catria, felt each moment of silence stretch into eternity. It was an oppressive, tangible thing, hanging between them like the fog itself. They had been riding like this for weeks now.
And Althea couldn’t stand it any longer.
Deciding that any conversation was better than this suffocating quiet, Althea nudged her horse slightly to decrease the gap between her and Catria. She studied the knight’s profile, noting the rigid set of her jaw and the focused gaze that seemed fixed on some distant point.
“Does it ever get lonely, being so… stoic all the time?” Althea’s voice broke through the stillness, her tone light but edged with a genuine curiosity. She watched closely for any reaction, a flicker of annoyance, perhaps a sigh of exasperation.
Catria’s eyes remained on the path ahead. The slight clenching of her jaw was the only indication that she had heard. “Focus is necessary, Princess.” she finally responded, her voice as cool as the mist enveloping them. “Distractions are dangerous.”
“Not even a tiny bit of small talk? How dreadful,” Althea sighed theatrically, leaning forward to catch Catria’s eye. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll forget how to converse in polite society?”
Catria glanced sideways, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. “We’re not in polite society. We’re in the middle of the forest, with potential threats behind every tree.”
Not quite satisfied with the response and itching for some semblance of normal interaction, Althea decided to escalate her efforts. She began to hum, choosing a particularly grating tune and deliberately hitting the wrong notes. She glanced sideways to see Catria’s grip tighten on the reins, her posture stiffening.
After several bars of her discordant melody, Catria glanced over, irritation briefly crossing her otherwise impassive face. “Is there a purpose to that noise?” she asked, her tone laced with a dryness that hinted at her limits being tested.
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“I call it music, Sir Knight. I’m trying to culture you,” Althea quipped with a playful grin, pleased to have finally provoked a response. “Might make you less grumpy.”
As they reached a small stream, the path narrowed, forcing them to ride closer together. The underbrush thickened, the branches scratching against their legs and the horses’ flanks. When they dismounted to give their horses a chance to drink, Althea saw her chance to probe deeper. She stepped close to Catria under the guise of examining a nearby wildflower, intentionally brushing her shoulder against Catria’s leg as she dropped to her knees.
“You really never relax, do you?” she asked softly, looking up at Catria, her voice laced with a mix of teasing and concern.
Catria paused, her hand lingering on the horse’s bridle as she considered the wildflower. “On duty, there’s no room for relaxation,” she admitted, her tone softer, less guarded than before. The admission was a small crack in her armor, intriguing Althea further.
“Must be exhausting, holding that sword up all the time. Never letting it down, even for a moment,” Althea remarked, her gaze flicking to Catria’s hand, which had subconsciously moved to rest on the hilt of her sword.
“Some burdens are carried by choice,” Catria replied, her eyes meeting Althea’s with an intensity that suggested layers of unspoken thoughts. “And some choices are made for us,” she added, a hint of something like regret threading through her words.
Althea felt a twinge of sympathy, quickly masked by her usual bravado. “Hmm, a choice would be nice.” She muttered, almost to herself, then raised her eyebrows playfully. “What would you do if I just ran off right now?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes challenging.
Catria’s response was immediate and firm, her hand shooting out to grip Althea’s wrist. “You wouldn’t get far,” she stated, her grip strong but not painful, her gaze locking with Althea’s in a silent battle of wills. The contact sent a thrill through Althea, surprising her with its intensity. “Please, don’t try,” Catria added, her voice low, almost pleading.
As Catria released her grip and turned back to her horse, Althea rubbed her wrist, the warmth of Catria’s touch lingering like a warning.
Or a promise.
The air felt heavier around her, the mist thicker, as if the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what Althea would do next.
“Thank you for the lesson, Sir Knight,” Althea called out, her voice carrying a new warmth mixed with respect and a challenge. “I look forward to seeing what else you can teach me.”
Catria glanced back over her shoulder, a rare smile touching her lips. “Just keeping you safe, Princess,” she replied, the coolness of her voice softened by something that sounded almost like affection.
As they resumed their journey, Althea felt a lightness she hadn’t experienced since they’d set out. She wasn’t just a pawn in some political game; she was a player in her own right, and in Catria, she might have found not just a jailer but a potential ally—or something even more complicated.