Early the next morning, everyone awoke and had their breakfast in the inn's dining room. The horses were well-fed and well-rested, and so the journey began once more.
The morning breeze played gently with Aria's curls, lending her an air of serene beauty.
Yet Aria found it deeply annoying.
The constant touch of hair against her skin irritated her and distracted her from the passing scenery. She sighed in frustration and reached up to tuck the curls behind her ear. Before she could, a hand brushed her hair.
"Let me," Rayan whispered softly.
Aria stayed still as he gathered her curls into his hand.
Her hair was long and thick, yet it fit easily in his large palm. Rayan drew a clean white handkerchief from his pocket and tied it tightly around her hair. The knot didn't even resemble a knot—it looked like a flower.
He gazed at it in silence, as if recalling a memory buried deep in the past.
It was only when Aria shifted her shoulder slightly that he blinked out of his trance.
As his eyes regained their cold sharpness, he withdrew his hand from her hair.
Sensing that he was done, Aria moved her head from side to side. When no curls came loose, she smiled brightly and turned to Rayan with the same smile.
Her grandmother had always braided her hair for her. She never bothered to do it herself—it had always felt like a nuisance to comb through her curls.
After her grandmother's passing, there had been no one to do it. Since then, she paid her hair little attention aside from washing it.
Rayan, however, looked away from her smile.
A faint red tinged his ears, which Aria noticed briefly before facing forward again, her fingers brushing her own ear as a slight pout formed on her lips. Unaware of her musings, the man behind her silently exhaled, relieved to be freed from her gaze.
Trailing behind them, the knights observed the exchange. Some watched calmly, while others wore more complex expressions—
As though just realizing that things were beginning to change in ways they hadn't anticipated.
And indeed, the future held far more than any of them expected.
. . .
Ludwig stretched like the tail of some beast across the southeasternmost edge of the Yiorgos Empire.
Surrounded by mountains, its quiet beauty had long gone unnoticed—until recent years brought it into the spotlight.
Once a forsaken wasteland, the land had been discussed across the empire, both praised and condemned.
Though the roads were no longer as lively as before, their orderliness and the area's stark cleanliness gave Ludwig a charm all its own.
That's why Aria found herself staring in wonder as they reached the top of a mountain.
She hadn't realized that all the villages they had passed were perched so high. She was familiar with hills, having grown up near one, but this—this was an actual mountain.
Everything below looked no larger than ants.
Despite the long and tiring journey, the horse pressed forward without pause.
At a certain point, Rayan suddenly called out her name.
"Aria!"
She looked over to where he was pointing, and her jaw dropped.
A colossal stone structure stood atop another mountain, its upper reaches lost in clouds.
It was massive—so high that the clouds seemed to cling to it.
She wondered what purpose such a thing could serve.
Aria kept her eyes fixed on it, half-expecting it to vanish, but it only grew larger as they drew nearer.
Soon, they arrived at what looked like an enormous entrance.
———
Unlike Aria's awe, Rayan and his knights faced a grim realization.
They scanned the empty roads, and their expressions darkened.
"My Lord, are we too late?"
Eden's voice held a tremor of restrained fear.
Could it be that Ludwig was already beyond saving?
Rayan swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. His eyes darted about, searching for even a single soul.
But in the end, he gave no reply.
The small group moved forward in silence toward the castle gates.
Once there, the knights dismounted while Rayan helped Aria down from her horse.
Maxim frowned at the firmly shut gates—there was no guard in sight.
He stepped forward and pounded on the iron doors.
Time passed before a voice finally called out.
"Who is it?"
The familiar voice of the steward brought the faintest relief to the group.
"It's us, Darby. We've returned."
Another long pause followed before Darby responded, his voice unsteady.
"I… ss… Is that really you, Sir Maxim?"
Maxim didn't need to answer. From the sound of shifting metal, he knew Darby had begun unlocking the gates.
When the doors creaked open, no words were needed.
The sight of the castle—and of Darby, now aged beyond his years—told them all they needed to know.
Ludwig was in a far worse state than they had imagined.