"…Allow me to go to the North."
Josselyn repeated herself. Only silence answered her. No one responded right away.
She kept her back straight, even though she did not dare meet the many eyes around her.
Hold on, Josselyn. You have to be firm if you want them to agree.
"The North?" the King repeated quietly.
"That is not a short journey," he continued, doubt filling his voice. "It is not a safe option for a woman."
"That is exactly why I must go, Your Majesty," Josselyn replied, forcing herself to turn and face him.
"If we wait any longer, winter will arrive first…" She swallowed, searching for better words. "Everything will be for nothing if we are too late."
"There she goes again, acting like a god, the only one who can heal the Queen," Killian muttered.
Josselyn heard it and instinctively turned. Their eyes met.
"This is the only way," she continued.
Killian did not answer immediately. He stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to read something even Josselyn herself was unsure she possessed.
"And what about the Queen?" he asked at last, his voice low and cold. "Or is this just an excuse to run from your responsibilities?"
"I am not that careless," Josselyn replied, her tone restrained.
"Oh, come on. You almost did it once," Killian said with a mocking smile.
"Did what, Killian?" the King asked.
The question made Josselyn stiffen. Her gaze locked onto Killian's lips, as if waiting for a death sentence.
Then, silently, his mouth moved, as if saying, Do you want me to tell everyone here?
Josselyn glanced around. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
Killian was very good at making her feel trapped, and afraid. His behavior just now showed that her imprisonment had not been known to the King, and perhaps not even to the Queen. If Killian had killed her quietly in that cell that night, no one would have known until her body rotted.
"Whining," Killian answered, without taking his eyes off her. "Mother's favorite little alchemist is incredibly weak and cowardly."
He had already laid the Queen back on the bed. Now all his attention was on Josselyn.
"I am also not convinced she knows how to use a sword or fight. So… she would only be a burden and slow the journey down," he added with a sneer.
"Do you have a better idea, Your Highness?"
Checkmate.
Killian pressed his lips together. He fell silent for a while.
"Are you certain you can bring the blankets back in time for the Queen?" the King finally asked.
The corner of Josselyn's lips lifted, just barely.
"If I can depart the morning after tomorrow, I will make sure to return to the palace on time," she said with confidence.
Killian laughed. "You should provide a guarantee if you fail to keep your word, Josselyn."
Damn it. What is he even talking about? I should be able to leave without pressure, but look at this… he is making it worse.
"Right, Father?" Killian pressed, seeking the King's support.
The King turned away, rubbing his face uneasily. "Will the Queen be all right without you in the palace?"
"Your Majesty, she is not a god. She cannot decide everything," Killian cut in sharply.
The King looked at him. "Killian…"
"I will make the decision," Killian continued calmly, leaving no room for objection.
His gaze flickered, just for a fraction of a second, toward the Queen lying weakly on the bed. His jaw tightened, almost imperceptibly.
Then he looked back at Josselyn.
He stepped closer.
One step.
Two steps.
Until only a few inches separated them.
Josselyn held her breath without realizing it.
"Mister Yorick… he can replace me in caring for the Queen for the time being," she said quickly, just before Killian stopped in front of her.
"And you?" Killian said softly. "Who will make sure you return to the palace with those blankets?"
His grayish blue eyes locked onto hers.
Josselyn was about to speak, but he cut her off.
"You will not go alone."
She frowned. "Your Highness?"
"This journey will be under my supervision," he continued. "Every step you take will be watched."
Josselyn wanted to protest, but he went on.
"The nobles from Edevan will accompany you."
"…Mister Howarth and Sebastian?" Josselyn asked instinctively.
Darius, who stood near the door, clicked his tongue softly.
The King let out a long breath. "I will send word to the North. At least they will not refuse your arrival."
"T-thank you, Your Majesty," Josselyn said, stumbling slightly over her words. The decision had been made. She exhaled in relief.
Killian walked toward the door. Darius followed immediately. But before leaving, Killian stopped.
Without turning back, he said quietly,
"Do not make me regret this decision, Josselyn."
The door closed.
---
"…You really are insane."
Josselyn turned.
Yorick stood in the half-open doorway. The King had already left the room, giving her space to tend to his wife.
"You heard that, Sir?" Josselyn asked.
"You said my name without permission," Yorick replied casually. "And then offered your life in front of the King."
Josselyn exhaled and leaned back in the chair beside the bed.
"I had no choice." She looked at the Queen, who now slept peacefully after her body had warmed.
Yorick stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"There is always a choice," he said softly, occasionally glancing at the Queen, perhaps worried she might wake.
"Not for me."
Yorick studied her for a long moment.
"The North is not a kind place," he continued. "The weather, the people… everything there can kill you."
Josselyn smiled faintly. "I am used to things like that."
"They are crueler than old Edmund, Josselyn."
She tilted her head. "Have you been there?"
Yorick did not answer right away.
"…I have," he said at last.
"And?"
"No one returns easily." He drew a breath. "Why do you think the palace prefers buying fabric from the South instead of the North?"
Josselyn fell silent for a moment. "Is it really that serious?"
Yorick scoffed. "That is just like you, speaking faster than you think."
He gently flicked the tip of her nose, a mix of fondness and annoyance.
A flush spread quickly across Josselyn's face.
"Are you trying to stop me?" she asked, masking her embarrassment.
Yorick gave a small smile.
"If I said yes, you would still go."
"That is true."
"Then there is no point."
He stepped closer, standing right in front of her.
"At the very least," he continued softly, "do not trust those foreign nobles too easily."
Josselyn narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Howarth and Sebastian." Yorick smiled faintly. "It is better to keep your distance than to trust strangers too quickly."
He was right. In a way, it was because of the cooperation offered by those two brothers from Edevan that she had ended up in prison.
"I will be careful."
---
Two days later.
The palace courtyard was filled with activity. Horses were being prepared. Carriages inspected. Servants moved back and forth carrying supplies.
Josselyn stood near the main steps, clutching the thick cloak Yorick had just given her.
"That does not suit you."
The voice came suddenly.
Josselyn turned.
A man stood a few steps away.
His long silver hair was loosely tied. His face was too delicate for a man. Large eyes, thin lips with a naturally striking color.
And a smile far too relaxed.
"…What?" Josselyn asked.
He pointed at her cloak.
"That," he said. "You will freeze to death if you rely only on that."
Josselyn frowned. "Is that how people from Edevan greet others? By commenting on their clothes?"
Howarth chuckled. He walked closer, his steps light, almost as if he did not touch the ground.
"Sorry," he said more gently. "I am just happy to see you again after so long, Josselyn."
Yes, me too. At least there is someone I know on this long journey.
Howarth's smile widened, as if he had just heard something delightful.
"You missed me?" he asked, tilting his head, his hands behind his back.
Josselyn glared. "Why would you suddenly come to that conclusion?"
Howarth chuckled again.
"No. My intuition simply says this journey will be interesting."