As the first light of dawn began to paint the horizon with soft hues of pink and gold, Linus stood at the entrance of his manor, his gaze fixed on the waiting carriage. The morning air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of wet soil and blooming flowers, remnants of the storm that had raged through the night.

The quiet bustle of the servants loading the last supplies stood in contrast with the tumult of the hours before. Marcus approached Linus with a determined demeanor, his eyes sharp and observant. He leaned in, whispering something to Linus.

Whatever he said elicited only the barest nod from Linus, a silent acknowledgment.

"Tradewood," Linus murmured, the name slipping from his lips as if carried by the cool morning breeze.

His thoughts, however, continued, almost as if to himself. "Mara was smart to enlist her mother's family... the Tradewood Guards are formidable."

Suddenly, Mara's delay in departure made perfect sense. She was securing the support of the Tradewoods to bolster her strength in Thornfield, a move that underscored her increasing strategic acumen and self-preservation instincts. Linus climbed into the carriage, settling into the worn but plush seat with an air of calm detachment.

Marcus and Mary followed, sliding into their places with the practiced ease of those accustomed to such journeys. Outside, the ten royal guards mounted their horses, forming a protective circle around the carriage, their stoic expressions and rigid postures signaling their unwavering discipline.

As they started to move, Linus's gaze drifted to the window. The carriage's gentle rocking and the rhythmic sound of hooves seemed to mirror the whirl of thoughts in his mind. Mara's calculated decision to bring the Tradewood Guards spoke volumes about her growing awareness of the game of politics and survival she now had to navigate. It also highlighted a deeper truth—her mistrust was not just of her enemies but those closest to her.

Seated across from Linus, Mary watched him, her eyes studying the distant look on his face. She offered a small, comforting smile, hoping to break the silence. "Master Linus, how long will we stay in Thornfield?" she asked softly, curiosity lacing her tone.

Linus returned her smile, though briefly. "Not sure, really, but as long as we have women," he said with a playful glance at Mary, "wealth and wine, we should be happy anywhere." His teasing tone couldn't entirely mask the deeper layers of his thoughts. "But if Thornfield becomes tiresome, you can return to the capital whenever you wish. I'll make sure you're well compensated."

Mary shook her head immediately, her expression resolute. "I will be where you are, Master Linus. I was just wondering," she said, her loyalty shining through, unwavering and steadfast as ever.

Linus nodded, deeply appreciating her dedication. "I know, Mary. Your presence is a comfort," he said, his voice softening sincerely, filled with gratitude.

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After a moment's pause, Mary's curiosity grew, her gaze thoughtful. "Will Princess Mara not be joining us in Thornfield? I thought she might accompany us."

Linus's expression shifted slightly. "She had some matters to attend to back in the capital," he explained with a careful tone. "We're here to ensure everything is ready for her arrival and the people are prepared to welcome her properly."

"Besides," he added with a touch of his usual lightness, "it gives us a chance to get a feel for the place first. I'd hate to be caught unprepared for an opportunity."

Mary smiled knowingly. "An opportunity for what, Master Linus?" He looked back at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. "For whatever Thornfield has to offer, of course. It's not the capital—it's all the more reason to see what it offers."

Mary nodded, feeling the warmth in his words. The journey toward Thornfield continued as the landscape shifted from dense forest to open fields. The tranquility of the road belied the tension simmering beneath the surface—Thornfield represented opportunity but also danger. The air was thick with anticipation, each passing mile bringing them closer to the unknown.

The landscape gradually changed, the dense forests and rolling hills of the countryside giving way to more open fields and bustling villages.

As they traversed a particularly secluded stretch of road, the serenity was suddenly shattered by a loud crack. A massive tree crashed across the road, making the horses frenzy. The carriage jolted abruptly, almost throwing its passengers from their seats.

Marcus reacted first, leaping out with the reflexes of a seasoned warrior. His eyes scanned the scene, taking in every detail as he assessed the situation. The horses, panicked and rearing, were quickly calmed by the royal guards, who dismounted and took their positions.

"Stay inside!" Marcus barked at Mary, who had instinctively moved toward the door. Her face paled, but she obeyed, retreating back to the carriage, her hands trembling slightly but her resolve firm. Linus stepped out with deliberate caution, his face betraying no emotion. The guards had already formed a protective perimeter, their weapons drawn. The atmosphere shifted—this was no accident.

"Ambush?" Linus asked quietly, his gaze sharp as he approached Marcus.

"Looks that way," Marcus replied grimly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "The tree's fall was too clean, too well-timed."

The stillness of the forest was broken by the sound of movement—a rustle of leaves, the faint snap of a twig. From the edge of the tree line, figures began to emerge. Dressed in dark leather armor, their faces obscured by hoods, they moved with the grace and precision of experienced hunters.

"Who are you?" Marcus demanded, his voice steady but edged with the readiness for combat. The lead figure stepped forward, his movements deliberate. "Just travelers," he said, his voice smooth, almost amused. "Same as you."

Linus's eyes narrowed. There was a chill in the air, one that had nothing to do with the encroaching night. He knew better than to believe in coincidences.

"Travelers typically don't go around dropping trees right in the middle of the road," Linus said, his tone laced with dry humor as he surveyed the scene.

The man's lips curled into a slow, predatory grin, his eyes gleaming with recognition. "We find it useful," he replied, his tone casual. "In situations like these."

Marcus's hand tightened on his sword hilt. His voice was taut with tension as he demanded, "What do you want?"

The man's gaze shifted to Linus, but his smile never wavered. "Just a conversation," he said, his voice becoming sharper. "But sometimes conversations require a bit of persuasion."