As Wolfram arrived at the camp, he immediately checked on his father. The old man was resting, his eyes closed, showing no signs of movement. Wolfram felt a pang of worry, but seeing his father in a somewhat peaceful state, he chose not to disturb him. He quietly stepped out of the tent and found Aslı waiting nearby, her eyes scanning the horizon.
"So," Wolfram said with a smirk, "do you still have those sarmas? Or are you going to feed me with your hands? Hmm?" His tone was teasing, playful even, as if the weight of the world had temporarily lifted off his shoulders. It was rare for Wolfram to show this side of himself, but in this moment, he felt a brief sense of victory. It was his turn to have the upper hand.
Aslı smiled, her tone light and flirtatious. "Oh, it wasn't the food you missed," she said, her voice carrying a playful edge. "It was the taste of my fingers, darling. I know, I know." She held his gaze, the two exchanging a series of glances that carried the ease of familiarity. They had been through too much together, and moments like this—fleeting though they were—reminded them both that some things hadn't changed.
Their playful exchange lingered in the air as they made their way toward the dinner tent. Inside, a modest spread had been laid out for them, a quiet meal amidst the chaos of their journey. They sat across from one another, the flicker of torchlight casting shadows across their faces as The sounds of the camp faded into the background as they engaged in a more intimate conversation.
"So," Aslı began, cutting into her food, "your father and I…well, for the first few days, he was in good condition. But out in nature, things took a turn. They weren't prepared for a journey like this. He grew up in the palace, took training from the best, yes, but he's not built for the harshness of survival in the wilderness. And…well, he got sick. We've been moving at a snail's pace ever since. It took us forever to get here."
Wolfram listened in silence, his gaze shifting from Aslı to his drink. There was concern in his eyes, but also a deep-seated frustration—one not aimed at Aslı but at the situation itself. He placed his cup down, staring at it for a moment before he spoke, "I understand. I know my father. He's a strong man, but not like the soldiers I've ridden with these past few years."
Aslı tilted her head studying Wolfram. She had seen the changes in him, even in the short time they had been reunited. He wasn't the same man she had known before—there was a weight in his words, a hardness in his expression. "You've changed, Wolfram. You're not the same man I once knew. Tell me, what has happened to you?"
Wolfram didn't respond right away. He leaned back in his chair, staring into his drink as if the answer lay at the bottom of the cup. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter than before. "I've fought too many battles. I've led armies, seen men die under my command. When Kara was no longer there…I had to step up. These people—they followed me. They trusted me. And I rode with them, fought beside them. I've built bonds that can never be broken."
He paused again, taking a deep breath. "But even now, I don't fully understand how deeply it has affected me. I guess I'll figure it out in time. But right now, we need to focus on the present."
Wolfram shifted the conversation, leaning forward slightly. "We're close to my homeland now. Thank you for bringing my father this far, Aslı. But there's no need for you to stay. My father's men and I can escort him from here. You don't have to burden yourself any further. You can head back home."
Aslı burst into laughter, her voice echoing through the tent. "You think I came all the way here just to turn back now? No, Wolfram. I'm not leaving." She leaned in, her tone both serious and playful. "You've seen our hospitality all these years, but now it's my turn. Also I want to talk to Kaiser Anno myself. I carried this burden, and I shall see it through to the end. So, we are going there together."
Wolfram narrowed his eyes, realizing that this had been Aslı's plan all along. She had no intention of simply turning back, and now he was faced with a situation he couldn't control. He exhaled deeply, knowing he didn't have much choice.
"Fine," he said, his voice resigned but not without a hint of respect for Aslı's resolve. "But know this—I haven't been to the palace in years. Even I don't know what to expect. This is your last chance to reconsider, Duchess." He emphasized the title, his mock-serious tone aimed at keeping the conversation light.
Aslı smirked, clearly enjoying the banter, "I've come too far to turn back now, Wolfram. You won't get rid of me that easily." But Wolfram's words carried weight. The journey ahead wasn't just about escorting his father to safety—it was about returning to a place Wolfram barely recognized anymore, a home that might not feel like home at all.
And now, he had Aslı by his side, a wild card in an already complicated game.But for the moment, they had food, warmth, and a brief moment of peace. Tomorrow, they would face whatever waited for them at the palace, together.