The moment they crossed the outer boundary of Quastrax, Eiravyne felt it.
The road was wrong.
It wasn't the quiet merchant trail she had expected .
Carriages rolled in tight succession, wheels grinding over stone.
Riders in dark cloaks moved with urgency.
They were moving with purpose.
Too much purpose.
Eiravyne's fingers tightened around Theodore's sleeve as she subtly shifted to peer through a narrow crack in the carriage wall.
Knights.
More than a handful.
Their armor caught the light in sharp, disciplined glints.
Banners she knew too well fluttered in controlled formation. Some carriages bore the royal insignia.
Her stomach dropped.
This wasn't trade traffic.
This was mobilization.
Her pulse roared in her ears, and for a terrifying second, the world seemed to tilt.
She steadied herself against a crate as dread settled like ice through her veins.
Her secret was out.
The entire kingdom must be searching for her.
Not just soldiers, informants. Roadkeepers.
