After four days of relentless travel, they finally reached the nearest peak in the northern reaches of the Evadene Kingdom. Rowan, who had spent his former life as Mari idly avoiding hardship, now felt every ache in his body as the weight of the journey settling into his muscles.
As the company prepared to rest for the night, Rowan stood his turn on guard duty. He had no choice but to give his best as an intrusion now could prove disastrous. Yet the task felt heavier than usual since River and Paul were not by his side tonight.
Instead, he was paired with unfamiliar knights, men whose faces he barely knew.
The camp followed its rhythm.
Tents rose against the dimming sky, horses drank deeply from the stream, firewood crackled as dinner simmered in battered pots. Scouts returned one by one, reporting that's nothing were amiss. It should have been a peaceful night and yet, in Rowan's chest, unease stirred like a restless whisper.
He could not explain it.
He could not name it.
