Louis woke before the others.
It took him a moment to realize why his body felt lighter than usual — why the tension that normally greeted him upon opening his eyes simply wasn't there.
The Imperial Palace was gone.
No heavy silence pressing against his chest. No sense of being watched, weighed, evaluated. Just the quiet rustle of canvas and the faint sound of servants moving beyond the envoy's temporary lodgings.
He sat up, exhaling slowly.
So that's it, he thought. I really did leave.
Breakfast was simple. Bread, preserved meat, warm tea. The members of the envoy exchanged only light conversation — logistics, travel time, nothing worth lingering on. Natasha sat among them, composed as ever, listening more than speaking. When their eyes met briefly, she gave no sign of discomfort, only a calm nod before returning her attention to the table.
Soon after, they departed.
The carriage was spacious enough for comfort, though it still forced proximity. Louis sat opposite Natasha, knees angled slightly away, hands folded loosely in his lap.
For a while, neither spoke.
The road rolled on beneath them, the sound of wheels and hooves filling the silence. Eventually, Louis shifted and broke it.
"So," he said, glancing toward her, "what is the marquis domain we're headed to like exactly?"
Natasha looked up from her thoughts. "The Marquis's domain," she replied. "A border territory, but not an unstable one, well until recently."
She explained as the carriage swayed gently — the climate was temperate, cooler at night, fertile enough to support trade routes. Politically, the Marquis held a cautious but respected position, loyal to the Empire yet far enough removed to operate with some independence.
Louis listened carefully, committing useful details to memory. Resources to research later. Power structures to understand. People to observe.
"Sounds like a lot of trouble requiring caution," he said quietly.
"That would be wise," Natasha replied.
Silence returned to the carriage.
The carriage slowed almost imperceptibly, the rhythm of the wheels changing before anyone spoke.
The attack came without ceremony.
Figures emerged from the treeline, weapons raised, blocking the road ahead while others closed in from behind. The carriage slowed to a halt as knights moved into formation.
Louis frowned, peering through the window.
"Bandits?" he muttered. "Attacking an envoy like this?"
Natasha followed his gaze, expression unchanged. "Desperation," she said. "Or misinformation. Some believe the rewards outweigh the risks."
"And greed," she added. "It makes people reckless."
"A larger band would have known better," Natasha added.
One of the knights approached the carriage. "Sir Louis," he said, bowing slightly, "would you like to participate in the extermination?"
Louis shook his head. "No. I'll stay here."
The knight nodded and returned to the line.
The clash outside was brief for the most part, some of the heroes who accepted the knight's invitation took a while. Steel rang, orders were shouted, and within a short period it was over. The carriage rocked once more as the convoy resumed its path.
When they were moving again, the quiet returned — different now, charged with unspoken awareness.
Louis stared at the opposite wall for a moment before turning back to Natasha.
"There's something I would like to say," he began.
She raised an eyebrow slightly, signaling she was listening.
"I have come to the decision that I intend to pursue you," he said plainly.
"Romantically."
Natasha blinked.
Then she laughed once — not mocking, just surprised. "You're very direct," she said. "Is romance always like this in your world?"
Louis considered the question for a moment. "Not always," he said. "But usually, if you're interested, you say it. You don't circle someone pretending it's something else. If the answer's no, you stop. If it isn't… you figure things out from there."
"Well most of the time," he muttered wryly.
"I don't want a battle of wits," he added.
Natasha regarded him quietly for a moment.
"What exactly do you expect from me?" she asked.
Louis opened his mouth to answer.
Then stopped.
The response that came to him first didn't feel honest enough to say out loud.
He exhaled once, slower this time.
"What I seek in you," he said at last, "isn't love or romance."
"But understanding."
Her expression softened, curiosity replacing surprise. "That's… unusual," she admitted.
She leaned back slightly, studying him now. "Here, people tend to notice what you can do first," she said casually. "Strength. Status. Whether you're worth paying attention to."
A faint smile touched her lips. "So when someone skips all that and goes straight to the point, it makes me wonder if he realizes what he's inviting."
Louis opened his mouth — then stopped.
For the first time since he'd spoken, he hesitated.
Natasha noticed immediately.
"In most situations," she said lightly, "that pause would make you seem unsure."
She tilted her head, her tone shifting, more measured now. "But here? I find it… reassuring."
Louis looked at her.
"It means you're thinking," she continued. "Not just acting. You're considering the steps ahead — and the person standing in front of you."
A small pause.
"That kind of hesitation," she finished, "isn't weakness."
Louis let out a slow breath. "Then yes," he said. "I know what I'm inviting."
The carriage rolled on in silence.
Not uncomfortable — but heavy enough that Louis became acutely aware of it.
The door latch shifted.
Just as he leaned forward, preparing to speak again, the door opened from the outside.
"My lord," one of the knights said, breath quick, "we've sighted movement ahead. Goblins."
Louis was already on his feet.
"I'll assist," he said immediately.
He moved past the knight in the same motion the words left his mouth, ducking through the open door without waiting for acknowledgment.
As the wind caught him, he thought, with genuine relief—
Thank the gods for goblins.