"Let's get going," she said, turning and walking away.
"And address me as Your Grace in front of others."
He nodded silently and followed her out the grand double doors. The scene before him was a sight to behold. The garden stretched out, immaculately maintained with trimmed hedges and fountains gently arcing in the morning sun. Horses and carriages stood ready, their polished surfaces gleaming.
Knights in gleaming silver armor moved with disciplined efficiency—members of the Iron Vanguard, the elite military force of Valtoria, responsible for protecting the empire. Among them, four mages in flowing blue robes mingled with the knights, their murmurs mixing with the soft clink of armor as the soldiers adjusted their gear.
He counted—four mages, ten knights, and whoever else was coming from the Duke's household. Fourteen in total. Not as large as he expected for an expedition of this scale, but it didn't concern him.
He sighed and dropped onto a nearby bench, ignoring the maid who stood beside him. His eyes scanned the courtyard again—everything seemed to be in order. The knights were preparing for the journey.
After a few minutes of quiet, he asked internally, 'System, can you tell me more about the structure of the empire?'
[No problem. The Empire of Valtoria is ruled by the Empress from the capital, Valtoris. The power is divided among four provinces—Frostveil (North), rich in minerals; Velda (West), the agricultural heart; Stormreach (East), a trade and cultural hub; and Blackwood (South), an industrial and trade center. Each province is governed by a Duke or Duchess under the Empress's authority, with Barons and Counts managing smaller territories. The High Council, made up of advisors and nobles, assists in policymaking. The empire's economy thrives on agriculture, mining, trade, and industry, while military forces, including the Iron Vanguard, maintain order.]
'Hmmm…' he thought.
'So there was information about the empire's structure in the book she gave me?' he asked internally.
[Yes.]
'If so you just need books to get more info about the world, right? I'll ask her for more in the future.'
The conversation with the system faded as a maid approached, bowing politely and gesturing toward the main cart. "Let's go, sir. The Duke has asked you to join him in the main cart," she said with a measured tone, her posture carefully respectful.
He nodded, standing from the bench and following her gesture. The creaking wheels of the carriage and the jingling of reins filled the air as the horses prepared for the journey ahead.
"Understood," he replied curtly, stepping toward the cart. As he approached, the Duke stood nearby, supervising the final preparations. Without a word, the Duke acknowledged his arrival with a subtle nod and motioned for him to climb aboard.
"You'll travel with me, my 'personal servant,'" the Duke said with a faint smile that carried just a hint of teasing.
'…Personal servant?' he thought, suppressing the urge to laugh. The title was absurd, but he let it slide—his priority was the journey, not the semantics.
He climbed into the cart, settling into his seat. The Duke followed, positioning herself on the opposite side. "Let's go," she ordered, her voice carrying an air of authority.
The cart lurched forward, the cobbled streets of the capital rattling the wheels as they began their journey. Once the gates of the capital were behind them, the Duke reached for the curtains and pulled them closed. The inside of the cart dimmed as the thick fabric blocked out the sunlight, sealing them in complete privacy.
He watched as her posture shifted—subtle, but unmistakable. What had previously been the demeanor of a stately nobleman began to fade. Her shoulders relaxed, and her movements, while still precise, carried a distinctly feminine grace.
His lips quirked into a small smirk. 'Her disguise really is too good. No one would suspect otherwise.'
"Phew," she sighed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair back into place.
"So, Your Grace… what exactly am I supposed to do on this trip?" he asked, leaning back against the cushioned seat.
She glanced at him, her sharp gaze briefly scanning his expression before she replied, "Nothing. Just sit back and let the knights handle the rest. You're here for appearances. Nothing more."
He tilted his head. "That's it? I don't even get to swing a sword or look threatening?"
A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "No. That won't be necessary. You're not a knight, remember? You're my personal servant." Her tone held an unmistakable note of amusement.
He huffed a quiet laugh but said nothing more, leaning his head against the window frame as the cart rolled on.
…
Two days later, as the cart rolled steadily across the countryside, he peered out through a small gap in the curtain. The view revealed nothing more than the rolling hills and the occasional tree, but in the distance, he could just make out the outline of a town, its rooftops barely visible against the horizon. The road was rough, and the cart jolted with every bump, but the horses maintained their steady pace.
Inside the cart, the Renaia remained silent, her attention mostly on the notes she held in her hands. She barely looked up, her face a mask of calm as she scanned whatever information was written.
The cart rumbled along the road, the creaking of the wheels and the steady clip-clop of the horses filling the air. After a few moments of silence, one of the knights shifted, breaking the stillness.
"Think we'll reach the border by tomorrow?" a knight asked, his voice rough from hours of travel.
Another knight let out a grunt, clearly fatigued. "Should be close, unless we hit another stretch of rough road. These carts don't move fast."
A third knight, leaning slightly out of the cart to stretch his neck, added, "I wouldn't mind a break. Long days, short nights... it's starting to wear on me."
"Tell me about it," came the reply, a slight chuckle escaping the first knight. "But the Empress's orders are clear, and we'll keep moving. No room for complaints."
The others nodded in agreement, a resigned silence settling over the group. Despite the light banter, their weariness was evident.
The cart rolled steadily forward, and soon, the looming gates of Blackwood Province's main city came into view. The hub of trading goods, the city bustled with activity even from a distance. Merchants yelled out their wares near the entrance, and workers hurriedly unloaded carts piled high with supplies.
As they approached the entrance, the knights noticed a small group of finely dressed individuals standing by the gate, flanked by guards bearing the Blackwood crest. The sight was enough to straighten the posture of every knight in the cart.
"Are they waiting for us?" one knight muttered under his breath.
"Looks like it," another replied, his tone low but cautious. "Better keep sharp."
From inside the cart, the curtains rustled as the 'Duke' peeked out. Adrian Kaelhardt's eyes scanned the waiting party with practiced ease. He gave no outward reaction
The cart rolled to a halt, and one of the waiting nobles stepped forward—Duke Reinhardt of Blackwood Province. His long, tailored coat swayed slightly in the breeze, and his carefully practiced smile widened as the capital's Duke emerged from the cart.
"Your Grace Kaelhardt," Reinhardt said warmly, bowing low. "It's an honor to have you in Blackwood. I trust the journey wasn't too taxing?"
Adrian gave him a polite but distant nod, His voice calm and measured. "It was manageable, Duke Reinhardt. I appreciate the welcome."
Reinhardt straightened, his smile unwavering as he gestured toward the open gates. "Blackwood is at your service, Your Grace. I've made all the necessary arrangements to ensure your stay is as comfortable as possible. The accommodations have been prepared to your exact specifications, and our guards are ready to assist in any way."
Adrian's eyes flickered toward the group behind Reinhardt. "You've gone to great lengths. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience."
"Not at all," Reinhardt replied smoothly, though his tone carried a hint of subtle deference.
"Anything for the Duke of the Capital."
Behind the pleasantries, however, Adrian could see through the carefully constructed facade. Reinhardt's politeness wasn't genuine at all. The Duke of Blackwood's position, though powerful within his province, was leagues below that of the Duke of the Capital. Adrian's presence here was an opportunity—for what exactly, she wasn't certain yet, but Reinhardt's eagerness was telling.
"Your efficiency is noted," Adrian replied coolly. "Let's proceed. Time is of the essence."
Reinhardt stepped aside, gesturing for the group to move forward. "Of course. Please, this way, Your Grace."
As they passed through the gates, Adrian's sharp eyes swept over the scene. The bustling streets, the meticulously placed guards, and the carefully staged welcome—it all reeked of someone desperate to make an impression. She leaned back slightly in the cart, her expression calm and unreadable, a mask of composure that betrayed none of her thoughts.
Inside the cart, his gaze wandered briefly before stopping at Duke Reinhardt, the so-called Duke of Blackwood. The man's warm smile and polished demeanor only deepened his unease.
'Do you feel it, System?' he asked silently, his tone sharp.
[Yes… There is a very well-hidden ominous aura surrounding this Duke Reinhardt,] the System replied, its usual monotone carrying a rare edge of caution.
'Hmm… something is definitely off,' he thought, narrowing his eyes at the figure of the Duke as the cart rolled deeper into the city.
///
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