He must’ve caught the way she tilted her head with surprise, because he chuckled. “Did I shock you, Your Highness? I’m not a scholar, but I know a thing or two about travel remedies.”
Before she could stop herself, she said, “I would not have taken you for a man who studies healing.”
Conrad grinned. “I don’t. Not yet, at least. But I spend a lot of time on horseback, and I’ve no patience for an upset stomach.”
A small smile touched her lips. The weight in her chest lightened a fraction. As they walked, she gathered her courage. “How long to Blackwood-Veyrde?”
“For a party of our size? Two days. We’ll camp tonight.” He gestured to the carriage. “Lord Wulfbane wanted you to travel comfortably. Though, if you’d rather ride?—”
“I do not ride,” she admitted, then in careful Tremesi, “I will go . . . in the carriage.”
Conrad’s eyes widened. Then, an encouraging grin flashed. “Well done, Highness! Much better than most on their first day.”
“And the roads . . . safe?”
He corrected kindly, “Arethe roads safe? Yes. We ride under Wulfbane colours. And Sir Darion,” he glanced at the Alpha, “is second only to your husband.”
The carriage was a sturdy, well-appointed vehicle drawn by a team of four matching chestnut horses, its doors embossed with Wulfbane’s sigil—a black wolf against a crescent moon. As she’d expected, her three companions were to share the carriage with her. The moment the door shut, the complaints began—the jostling, the lack of attendants, the perceived insult from a lord who didn’t bother to come himself.
JingYi turned to the window. From it, she watched the final preparations, her eyes finding her own small trunk. Inside were her medicinal herbs and her precious medicine chest. For years, she’d believed her healing skills would be her ticket out. Yet it wasn’t her knowledge, but an arranged marriage, that had delivered her.
Fate was not without its humour.
Outside, Conrad swung himself into the saddle of his white mare, the creature prancing as he gathered the reins. He adjusted the leather straps with the ease of someone who’d been riding since a young age. He nudged his horse toward Sir Darion who already sat atop his sable-coloured stallion.
“Reckon we’ll make good time?” Conrad asked in Tremesi, squinting toward the road ahead.
Darion scoffed. “If we don’t waste too much time stopping for complaints, maybe.” He shook his head. “Travelling through the forests with four highborn ladies? I’d rather be in a pit fight with a starving bear.”
JingYi watched as Conrad elbowed the larger man in the ribs, earning a grunt. The younger man dipped his head slightly, speaking low, but she could guess the warning in his voice.
‘She speaks a bit of our language. Enough to understand bits and pieces, at least.’
Sir Darion stilled. Then, slowly, his gaze lifted to meet hers.
JingYi held her breath. For a beat, he simply studied her. Then, to her surprise, he tipped back his head and laughed heartily.
It wasn’t mocking. It was amused. Pleased, even.
She smiled. It was the most genuine emotion she’d seen from the Alpha commander so far.
As soon as they left the heart of the city, the noise faded behind them. Trees and shrubs replaced the buildings and homes. Beside JingYi, LánYàn let out a languid sigh, stretching her arms as though the journey already wearied her.
“Straight to Blackwood-Veyrde?” she mused, tilting her head toward RenHua. “How disappointing. I’d hoped for a glimpse inside Limyere Palace. Maybe stay a day or two.”
RenHua, sitting on the bench across, arched a delicate brow, smirking. “Oh? You didn’t truly expect that, did you? Lord Wulfbane has no intention of parading his bride through court. I imagine he values his dignity.”
JingYi kept her eyes on the window, but her stomach twisted. She had no way of knowing what her husband thought. But she knew precisely whattheywanted her to think: Alexander Wulfbane was ashamed of her. He didn’t wish to present a blemished, limping wife before his king. His only priority was to sweep her away out of sight and hide her in his castle.
“Perhaps,” she spoke up, “with the wedding day imminent, Lord Wulfbane has more pressing matters to attend to.”
LánYàn let out a delicate laugh, soft and silken. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
JingYi shook her head, remembering Wu Ma’s warning when she’d been seven years old: ‘Tears are precious. Do not waste them where cruelty may drink them.’
She set her eyes on the scenery, forced herself to breathe, and focused on the wheels’ rhythm against the road. Outside, the gentle hills of early autumn had given way to steeper, wilder terrain. The golds had deepened to russet and bronze, thewildflowers sparser, the soil rockier. The air turned crisper still, and she inhaled deeply.
How peaceful, how beautifully pristine.