Erica and Benjamin set out on foot once Katana had disappeared down the lane toward the weapon shop.
The path ahead stretched long and uneven, the distance from the manor gates to the Lot district measuring somewhere between eight and ten miles of steady walking.
Four hours, give or take, if they kept a measured pace and did not linger.
The morning sun had climbed higher now, casting long shadows across the road, and the air carried the faint warmth of a day that had decided to be pleasant.
The road first took them through the cleaner, more ordered stretches of Thaad.
Bustling districts pressed close on either side; market stalls open, vendors calling out prices, carts rattling over cobblestones, children darting between the legs of adults who were too tired to scold them.
The smells were ordinary and comforting: fresh bread, roasting meat, the faint sweetness of fruit that had been set out to ripen in the sun.
