Luther sighed.
For the seventh time in less than ten minutes.
His elbow rested lazily on the carriage window frame, cheek pressed against his palm, his eyes half-lidded as the scenery rolled by. Trees blurred together in streaks of green and gold, sunlight leaking through their leaves like liquid honey. The rhythmic clop of horses' hooves was steady, almost too steady, and it made the entire forest road feel endless.
Outside, the six knights rode in formation—three on each side—their polished armor glinting as the carriage rolled along the dirt path. At the front, an apprentice driver, a boy named Jio, held the reins with stiff focus, sweat running down the side of his face.
"Slow down on the slope!" one of the knights barked, voice echoing over the clatter.
"Yes, sir!" Jio stammered, pulling the reins slightly. The carriage rocked but steadied.
Inside, the air was much quieter—and ten times more suffocating.
