For werewolves, the journey to the north was faster than any horse could manage. They ran in packs, their speed and strength bordering on the impossible. But since they were escorting Solenne, they had to slow down to match her pace.
Although at this point, Solenne didn't care anymore. Fast or slow, there was no comfort in this journey either way.
"I think I'm running a fever."
Solenne touched her forehead, noticing she was hotter than usual. Not surprising, considering she hadn't been feeling well. Hiding it and pretending she was fine during the delegation's entire stay—just to avoid delaying the departure—didn't help at all.
Tak! Tak!
Her brows lifted at the knock on the shut window of the carriage. She carefully reached for the small sliding window and opened it slightly.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
Outside was Callista, the only servant and knight Solenne was allowed to bring to the La Lucretia stronghold. She rode alongside the carriage on horseback.
Solenne offered a small smile and nodded. "Do not worry about me, Callista. I'll be resting. I'd prefer not to be disturbed for the time being."
Callista lowered her head and watched the window slide shut again. She stared at it, worried, having noticed the redness in Solenne's eyes.
Was she crying? she wondered. I know it was her decision to proceed with the engagement as scheduled… but she's probably just putting on a brave front.
For whatever reason Solenne had suddenly agreed to the engagement remained a mystery to Callista. Then again, the princess had always been like that. Once Solenne set her mind to something, she would master it—or claim it.
Perhaps she realized there was no point in delaying it.
A shallow sigh escaped Callista as she gently veered her horse away to give the carriage more space.
Meanwhile, at the front of the entourage, Ronin rode closer to where Damien was. He glanced back at Callista before refocusing on Damien.
"Your Grace, it seems we were wrong about the princess," Ronin said with a cheeky undertone. "I thought for sure they'd change their mind at the last minute."
That's what I expected too, Damien thought, and I would've understood if King Jaro used that as an excuse.
Because Damien was aware of Solenne's current health condition.
And yet she's not saying anything. Not even to her knight.
His expression remained stiff, eyes set straight ahead, though his ears had already picked up the sound of her labored breathing inside the carriage.
"Your Grace, do you think the princess would mind if we ran?" Ronin asked out of pure curiosity. "We're only riding horses because of her. And if we travel at this pace to the North, it'll take us more than two full moons to reach the North."
"We're keeping this pace," Damien finally replied, his tone colder and more distant than usual. "Ronin, once we cross the border, it gets dangerous. Be alert."
With that, Damien picked up his speed and rode ahead. Ronin blinked innocently.
"What made him so upset?" Ronin muttered. "Did he not like that the Kingdom of Aethera didn't try any of their usual tricks?"
He shrugged it off, deciding not to think too much about it, and refocused on their little parade—to make sure the princess arrived in the North safe and sound.
****
Solenne leaned to her side, closing her eyes. Her eyes felt hot, as if they might tear up at any moment. Even her breath felt too warm, as if what she had been resisting since waking up for the fourth time in the same day was finally taking hold.
"I probably pushed myself too far," she whispered, trying to ignore the bounce on the rough road. "We've probably left the capital since the carriage is shaking more now…"
She tried to keep herself awake by talking to herself, unaware that someone, just a few paces ahead of the carriage, was listening to her intently. But despite her effort, she eventually slipped into a deep slumber.
And as she succumbed to sleep, images and memories from her first three lives flashed behind her eyelids. Her brows knitted together; sweat began to form on her forehead and spine. Her complexion paled.
"No," she whispered in her sleep. "No, please…"
Little did Solenne know that for her, only minutes had passed. But to the others on this journey, she had been asleep for hours. And what she also didn't know… was that Damien had eventually ended up in the carriage with her.
He sat beside her, quietly observing her pale complexion, watching the sweat gather on her brow. Reaching out, he touched her forehead.
She's burning.
His sharp jaw clenched.
You didn't have to come if you were sick, he thought, reaching for her shoulder to gently pull her toward him. We would've waited until you were feeling better.
He let her rest against his side, his arm supporting her shoulder as her body pressed into his. If King Jaro had said Solenne was unfit to travel, Damien could have explained it to his people. After all, Damien knew the King wasn't lying. But King Jaro didn't even know his daughter's condition.
His frown deepened as he recalled Solenne's activities before their departure.
"You should've rested instead of granting everyone an audience," he whispered, thinking specifically of all the visitors she welcomed to her palace—especially Julian Rune.
Solenne moved, her discomfort visible on her face. His thick brows rose slightly. Thinking her position was causing the distress, Damien gently reached for her skirt, then her legs.
With great care, he lifted her into his arms and let her legs rest across his own.
"Hmm…" she moaned faintly despite the gentleness of his movements. Her eyes fluttered open.
Her vision was blurry, but she saw a figure's face above her. As a child, Solenne had often been sick, and during those times, King Jaro had given her something to comfort her—a giant stuffed bear she named Momo.
Damien's brows lifted as her fingers brushed his face. Then, with a small smile, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her forehead against his skin.
"I missed you," she whispered.
Damien froze, looking down at her. "Who?"
"You," she murmured, body relaxing against him as she held onto him securely. "Please don't leave me… I'm scared, Momo."
He stared at her in silence as her breath soon deepened. Her body softened in his arms. Though her hug had loosened, it remained secure. She had slipped back into sleep after her brief episode of delirium had ended.
"…Momo," he repeated, intrigued. "I hope he's not another childhood friend."
Because if there was one thing Damien had learned during his short stay in Aethera… it was that he didn't like any of the male nobles who came to see her, whatever the reason.