Their group had set up a camp within the dense thicket of trees for their first halt on the journey to Odelle city. As the afternoon sun began to weaken, the shadows grew longer as it heralded the approaching nightfall.
A bunch of tents was all over the place, their cloth flaps moving gently in the wind. People were busy with their horses and gathering firewood for the later evening feast.
Mikael found a seat atop a felled tree as he looked over some knights that gathered around. His eyes scanned them until they fell upon Nicolaus, who conversed with the assembled circle.
Looking at Nicolaus, a nagging question gnawed at Mikael: Could he find his family before this predator did something to them?
An unsettling feeling started swirling around inside him, as uncertainty clouded his thoughts about whether he could somehow outmaneuver this threat. Evaluating the situation and the limited moves he could make, he thought the chances of doing so were close to impossible.
It felt like there wasn't much he could do to sort things out.
"Seriously, I don't get it, man. Why did the Marquess take a stop this early? We could have squeezed in more miles," came the grumbling voice from a pair of knights currently stacking firewood, his voice carrying across the campsite.
As his words wafted through the air, reaching the ears of those around them, his friend smacked his finger with a piece of wood. "Ow! What did you do that for?"
"Shut up if you value your head," the other knight retorted.
Blowing the throbbing finger, the knight said again, "I mean, I'm no expert, but isn't this, like, still a good time to keep traveling? Sun's still bright."
As Mikael's attention was drawn by their conversation, he watched as the knights worked to gather firewood and prepare it for their campfire, their armor clinking as they stacked the logs.
Noticing Mikael's gaze on them, the knights suddenly morphed into statues, their faces drained of color. Their eyes darted around before they panicked and dropped to their head, bowing frantically.
"G, Go, Good afternoon, Marchioness," they stammered in unison, their voices sounding anxious.
With a friendly nod, Mikael acknowledged their greeting, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He watched them scramble to collect the last firewood, neatly putting it in a cart, and then hurried off with the wheels rattling as they went.
After the knights scurried away, Mikael's brow furrowed, confused as to why they acted seemingly spooked around him. He knew he made sure to give them warm smiles.
'My wig's not crooked, is it?' In a panic, he reached up to pat his head and inspect his wig.
While in the process of ensuring his hair was aligned, he saw someone watching him from the corner of his eye – Nicolaus. When their eyes connected, Nicolaus motioned for him, giving off a look saying 'Come here' while holding his hand out.
Reluctantly, Mikael yielded and complied. Heaving a resigned sigh, he rose from the felled tree he used as his seat, brushed off his dress, and headed over to the group of knights where Nicolaus stood.
Amidst the grass, Mikael's steps carried him closer to Nicolaus. Just as he approached, swift as a breeze and without warning, Nicolaus effortlessly scooped him, wrapping an arm around Mikael's waist in a tight embrace that felt startling and strangely... comforting.
"Wha–" Immediately, Mikael put a hand on his mouth. The suddenness of the gesture sent a jolt through him, his heart racing as he found himself in the Marquess' grasp.
Nicolaus shot Mikael a stern look, his grip firm as he drew Mikael closer. Leaning in close, his voice dropped to a murmur as he spoke into Mikael's ear, "Remember what I told you?"
"You caught me off guard!" Mikael hissed back, even punching Nicolaus slightly on his chest.
Suddenly, the mood within the assembly transformed, akin to the sudden blossoming of flowers all around. The knights, who had looked all serious before, now had big grins plastered on their faces.
"I don't think I've introduced you to my men, yet," Nicolaus began, shifting his focus and gazing at the assembled knights.
He started introducing the knights, saying their names out loud. Mikael noticed each knight nodding politely, showing good manners with their gestures.
"Knights," Nicolaus continued, addressing his comrades, "this is my wife."
Simultaneously, a hand resting on Mikael's waist emitted a gentle pat, as if it was a signal. Mikael caught on to this and tried to bob his head to acknowledge the presence of the knights.
However, he barely had time before the group erupted in a chorus of greetings, their voices brimming with enthusiasm. The knights' warm greetings didn't stop at just that.
Their gazes fixed on Mikael, and a flurry of comments praising his appearance and beauty emerged, painting a faint flush of embarrassment across his cheeks.
Amidst the shower of compliments, one among the knights couldn't help but voice their disbelief. "Honestly, I never thought I'd live to see our boss get married, knowing how foul his character is," he said boldly.
The knights came to a halt, dispersing from the center like a sea parting, making way for the bold speaker who happened to mirror the height of Nicolaus. Stepping forward, he walked through the lane formed by the divided group.
His presence was marked by a goatee beard framing his strong jawline and an eye patch on his left eye. Dressed in a loose, lace-up shirt, his sword was comfortably sheathed at his waist.
Walking with a sympathetic expression, he shook his head slightly, a trace of sadness feigning in his eyes as he added, "Can't help but feel sorry for our poor Marchioness."
A murmur of agreement spread through the gathered knights like a ripple, their heads nodding in unison, a collective understanding of the sentiment.
"And here's the vice commander, Daelan," Nicolaus interjected casually, as if brushing off the comments as everyday banter among comrades.
"Give us a blink if you've been kidnapped, my lady," Daelan kidded in, his words triggering laughter among the knights. Nicolaus himself chuckled heartily.
The irony of it all was striking, and Mikael's gaze involuntarily flicked up to meet Nicolaus'. After all, he was essentially held against his will in this marriage.
Mikael found it strange that Nicolaus seemed to find the jest amusing, a small crease forming between his brows as he looked at him.
His attention shifted back to Sir Daelan, who awaited a response, expectant. Mikael hesitated just for a second before complying with a blink, a simple yet effective gesture that set off another round of amused laughter among those around him.
Amidst the cheerful noise, Mikael felt a sensation looming beside his ear. "We're setting out for a hunt," Nicolaus whispered, his tone now quite different from the earlier levity. "Stay close to Cade or your maid, and don't wander off."
Mikael nodded in response, but before he could react further, he felt a sudden peck on his lips that made his hand instinctively cover his mouth.
He flinched by surprise, a flush creeping up his cheeks as the knights erupted in cheers, their amusement at the scene evident.
'Th, This guy!'
Mikael could feel the steam rising from his ears at Nicolaus' audacity.