The first day of travel was deceptively easy.
They followed the main northern road—well-maintained, wide enough for merchant caravans, marked with mile stones that counted distance from the capital. Countryside rolled past in gentle hills covered with late summer green, farms dotting the landscape where families worked fields that had fed the kingdom for generations.
Alice rode beside Adrian for most of the morning, High Knight Garrick and Mira following at respectful distance that gave them privacy without abandoning watchfulness.
"It's beautiful," Alice observed, watching a farmer guide oxen through furrows. "I've never traveled this far from the capital before."
"Never?" Adrian asked, surprised.
"Princesses don't exactly wander. Too many security concerns, political complications, risks of kidnapping or assassination." She smiled wryly. "I've spent my entire life within palace walls or carefully controlled visits to noble estates. This—" she gestured at the open road, the farms, the distant tree line "—is more freedom than I've ever had."
Adrian processed that. His childhood had been border patrols, demon fights, learning to survive in hostile territory. Hers had been gilded cage, beautiful but confined.
"Does it bother you?" he asked. "The restrictions?"
"It did. Still does sometimes." Alice adjusted her reins with slightly awkward movement, clearly not entirely comfortable with the riding yet. "But the demon ambush taught me something. All that protection, all those guards and protocols—they kept me safe but unprepared. When real threat came, I nearly died because I'd never learned to handle actual danger."
"You fought well," Adrian offered.
"I survived. That's different from fighting well. I know the difference now." Her blue eyes met his, carrying determination mixed with something warmer. "Which is why I asked to come to Northwatch. Why I'm hoping you'll help me learn what I should have been taught all along."
Adrian felt suddenly uncertain. Teaching a princess? He'd grown up with Northwatch's harsh methods—his father's uncompromising standards, border warriors who didn't care about status or feelings. Could he teach someone from Alice's background without either being too harsh or too gentle?
"I've never taught anyone before," he admitted. "Not formally. I don't know if I'll be good at it."
"You fought beside me during the demon ambush. That counts for something."
"Fighting beside someone isn't the same as teaching them."
"Then we'll figure it out together." Alice's smile was genuine, unguarded. "I'm not expecting perfect instruction. Just honest effort from someone who actually knows what he's doing."
They rode in comfortable silence for a while, watching countryside pass. The road was busy—merchants heading south with goods from northern settlements, travelers on various business, occasional military patrols ensuring route security.
"Adrian," Alice said eventually, voice carrying hint of nervousness, "would you teach me to ride properly? I know basics, but palace instruction focused on looking elegant rather than actual capability."
Adrian glanced at her posture, her grip on the reins—technically correct but rigid, like she was reciting lessons rather than actually controlling the horse.
"I can try," he said carefully. "But I learned border riding—practical rather than elegant. It might be different from what you're used to."
"Different is exactly what I need."
So Adrian tried teaching for the first time in his life—or rather, first time in this life. He had centuries of knowledge about riding, combat, survival. But translating that knowledge into instruction for someone else? That was new.
He started tentatively, explaining how to communicate with the horse through subtle shifts in posture rather than just pulling reins. How to maintain balance during sudden movements. How to free one hand for weapon without losing control.
"Am I doing it right?" Alice asked after attempting the posture adjustment.
"Better. Your shoulders were too tense before—that makes the horse nervous. Try relaxing them."
"Like this?"
"More. You're still holding tension. The horse can feel it."
Alice tried again, and Adrian could see her actively processing each instruction, applying it with focused determination. No complaints about difficulty. No requests for easier methods. Just genuine effort to learn.
"Is this better?"
"Much better. See how your horse is responding? She's more relaxed too."
By midday, Alice's riding had noticeably improved—movements more confident, less rigid. Adrian felt surprised satisfaction at seeing his instruction actually work.
"You learn fast," he observed.
Alice's smile was warm. "I'm motivated. And you explain things clearly—no flowery language or unnecessary complexity. Just direct instruction."
The moment stretched between them—comfortable, warm, carrying implications neither quite acknowledged yet.
High Knight Garrick's voice interrupted from behind. "We should stop for midday meal. There's suitable clearing ahead."
They made camp at the clearing Garrick indicated—off the main road but close enough to hear passing traffic, near a stream that provided fresh water. It was barely past midday, but horses needed rest and humans needed food.
Adrian helped Alice dismount, noting how she handled it more confidently than this morning.
"I'll gather firewood," Alice announced, already moving toward nearby trees.
"Princess—" Mira started.
"I'm going twenty feet away to pick up sticks. I'll be fine."
"I should go with her," Adrian said, uncertain if he was offering or asking permission.
"Please," Mira replied, clearly relieved someone responsible would be watching.
They walked to the tree line together, Alice collecting fallen branches with slightly uncertain movements.
"You're looking for dry wood," Adrian said, falling into teaching mode without planning to. "See how this branch snaps cleanly? That means it's dry enough to burn well. This one bends—too much moisture."
Alice practiced testing branches, learning to identify dry wood. She didn't ask questions—just watched carefully, mimicked his technique, adjusted when he corrected her. The kind of student who learned through doing rather than discussing.
"Your childhood sounds intense," she said after a while, watching him efficiently sort through wood. "Growing up learning all these survival skills."
"It was normal for Northwatch. Everyone learns young because mistakes can be fatal." Adrian picked up a particularly good piece of oak. "But yes, compared to palace life, probably intense."
"Tell me about it?" Alice asked. "What's a normal day like at Northwatch?"
Adrian considered how to explain. "Wake before dawn. Check defenses—walls, gates, watchtowers. Morning patrol of immediate perimeter. Training after breakfast—combat drills, tactical exercises, maintenance. Midday meal, then afternoon patrol or repair work depending on need. Evening is more training or free time if demons aren't active. Sleep early because attacks often come at night."
"Every day?"
"Every day. Border doesn't allow rest. Moment you relax, demons find weakness."
Alice was quiet, processing. "I can handle that."
Not "that sounds hard" or "I'll try." Just quiet certainty that she could adapt. Adrian found himself believing her.
They walked back to camp with full arms of firewood. Garrick had already started preparing food—trail rations supplemented with fresh bread from the last town and dried meat from supplies.
As they ate, Alice sat close to Adrian—not inappropriately close, but closer than necessary. Sharing space comfortably.
"The road gets harder after tomorrow," Adrian said between bites. "Less maintained, rougher terrain."
"Good," Alice replied simply. "I didn't come for easy."
Her hand found his—casual touch that might have been accident except for how her fingers curled slightly, holding gentle contact for moment longer than necessary. She didn't say anything. Didn't thank him again. Just the touch, warm and certain.
From across the fire, Mira and Garrick pretended not to notice.
Afternoon travel was quieter. Everyone settled into rhythm of journey, conversation replaced by comfortable silence and the steady sound of hooves on packed earth.
Adrian found himself more aware of Alice riding beside him—the way she applied what he'd taught about posture, the small adjustments she made to improve her riding. She was quick learner, taking instruction seriously.
"Am I doing this right?" she asked at one point, checking her positioning.
Adrian assessed. "Your posture's good. Try relaxing your grip on the reins slightly—you're holding tension again."
She adjusted immediately. "Better?"
"Much better."
No more words needed. Just the learning, the adjusting, the comfortable dynamic of teacher and student finding their rhythm.
They made camp that evening at a travelers' rest—established clearing with stone fire ring, basic amenities, and small stable structure for horses. Other travelers were already there—a merchant family heading south, two adventurers going north, a lone rider whose profession was unclear.
Adrian showed Alice how to set up her bedroll, suddenly very aware this was another teaching moment—their first evening camping together.
"Choose ground carefully," he explained, testing different spots. "Feel how this area is slightly elevated? Water won't pool here if it rains. And this spot is too rocky—you'll feel every stone through the bedroll."
Alice tested different locations following his guidance. "Here?"
"Good choice. Elevated, soft ground, close to fire but not too close."
"This is going to be much closer to ground than I've ever slept," Alice observed, testing the bedroll's thin padding.
"You'll get used to it. Though I'll admit palace beds are probably more comfortable."
"Probably. But palace beds don't come with this." She gestured at the campfire, the stars beginning to appear overhead, the freedom of open road.
As darkness fell, the various travelers gathered around the fire ring, sharing stories and news in the tradition of the road. The merchant spoke of good trade in the capital. The adventurers mentioned increased demon activity near the border. The lone rider stayed silent, watching.
Alice sat beside Adrian, close enough that their shoulders touched. Not deliberately intimate, just... comfortable.
"Your first day on the road," Adrian said quietly. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore. Tired. Happy." She smiled. "Genuinely happy."
"Good."
"Is it strange? Being happy while exhausted and aching?"
"Not strange. Freedom tends to do that."
She leaned against him slightly—casual gesture that might have been fatigue except for how intentional it felt. Adrian didn't move away, despite uncertainty about what this meant, what they were becoming.
They sat in comfortable silence, watching fire dance and listening to other travelers' conversations. Just two young people on journey north, learning who they could be together.
Eventually, Alice stood, stretching tired muscles. "I should sleep. Tomorrow's another day of riding and learning."
"It is. Sleep well."
"You too." She paused, then added quietly with genuine weight, "Thank you, Adrian. For being willing to teach me. For treating me like I'm capable of learning real skills."
The single moment of gratitude carried more meaning than multiple repetitions could have. Adrian met her eyes, seeing the sincerity there.
"You are capable. And you're welcome."
She returned to her bedroll where Mira waited, settling in for sleep. Adrian stayed by the fire a while longer, talking quietly with the other travelers, keeping watch as the evening wore on.
High Knight Garrick settled beside him eventually, voice low. "You did well today. Teaching, I mean. She's learning because you're treating her like capable student rather than princess who needs coddling."
"I wasn't sure how to approach it," Adrian admitted. "Never taught anyone before."
"Natural talent then. Or maybe just honesty." Garrick paused. "Though I should mention—she's falling for you. You realize that?"
Adrian startled. "I—we're just—it's training—"
"It's training. And also more than training. I've seen enough young people to recognize when something's developing." Garrick's tone wasn't judgmental, just observational. "Question is whether you're falling too."
Adrian didn't answer. Couldn't answer honestly without revealing too much.
"Thought so," Garrick said with something like sympathy. "Well. Nothing wrong with it as long as you both stay focused when demons show up. Romance is fine. Distraction during combat gets people killed."
"There's no romance—"
"Yet. There's no romance yet." Garrick stood, preparing to take first watch. "But there will be. Probably sooner than either of you admit. Just keep teaching her well—that's what matters most right now."
He walked away, leaving Adrian sitting by dying fire, processing truth he'd been avoiding.
The camp settled into quiet. Garrick took first watch at the perimeter. Mira slept near Alice's bedroll, guardian even in rest. The other travelers found their own sleeping spots. Adrian knew he should sleep too—tomorrow would bring more travel, more teaching, more complicated feelings he wasn't sure how to handle.
But he found himself looking toward where Alice lay, her back to the fire, seemingly asleep.
In the firelight, he could see her profile—the way her hair had come partially loose from its practical binding, falling across her face. The peaceful expression that replaced her usual determined focus. She looked different like this. Softer. Beautiful in ways that had nothing to do with princess finery or courtly presentation.
Just Alice, exhausted from her first real day of travel, trusting enough to sleep under stars in rough camp with only basic protection.
Adrian felt something warm and complicated in his chest. He'd been falling for her since the demon ambush, yes. But seeing her like this—vulnerable, peaceful, choosing this hard path when she could have stayed in palace comfort—made it undeniable.
He was falling hard.
"You're staring."
Adrian nearly jumped out of his skin. Alice hadn't moved, still had her back to him, but her voice was quiet and amused.
"I thought you were asleep," he managed, mortified.
"I was trying to be. But someone was watching me quite intently." She rolled over to face him, and in the firelight he could see she was trying not to smile. "How long were you planning to stare before I called you out on it?"
"I wasn't—I was just—" Adrian felt his face burning. "I was checking that everyone was settled for the night."
"Uh huh. Is that what we're calling it?" Alice's expression was warm despite the teasing. "Checking on everyone?"
"I—yes. That's exactly what I was doing."
"And did everyone else require such thorough checking? Or just me?"
Adrian had no good answer for that. Alice propped herself up on one elbow, fully facing him now, expression soft in the firelight.
"I don't mind," she said quietly, all teasing gone. "You staring. I just... wanted you to know I noticed."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"Adrian." She cut him off gently. "I said I don't mind."
The moment stretched between them. Too many implications. Too much honesty.
"You should sleep," Adrian finally said. "Tomorrow's another long day."
"So should you. But you won't, will you? You'll stay up half the night thinking about complicated things you won't talk about."
She knew him too well already.
"Maybe," he admitted.
"Try to get some rest. I need my teacher alert enough to keep instructing me tomorrow." She settled back into her bedroll, but her smile was visible even in dim firelight. "Goodnight, Adrian. Even if you're going to be awkward about being caught staring."
"Goodnight, Alice. Even though you're enjoying my embarrassment far too much."
Her quiet laugh was the last thing he heard before she actually did drift to sleep.
Adrian returned to his own bedroll, face still burning with embarrassment, but also smiling despite himself.
She'd caught him. And she didn't mind.
That felt more significant than it probably should.
Tomorrow would bring second day of travel. More riding, more teaching. More moments that felt like something building between them.
But tonight, he'd sleep knowing that when he looked at her and saw something beautiful, she looked back and saw something worth keeping close.
The journey north continued.