The morning air was crisp and cold as our traveling party assembled in the courtyard. Two carriages waited, along with several horses for the guards. Duke Marcus stood on the manor steps with an incredibly stern but approving expression.
"Safe travels," he said, clasping my shoulder. "Remember what I told you."
"I will, Father."
Valerie came out from the manor in traveling clothes—a practical leather armor over a fitted tunic with her silver hair braided back. She looked every bit the warrior noble, and I couldn't help but stare.
"Stop gawking and get in the carriage," she said, but there was amusement in her voice.
Duke Morningstar's guards were already mounted on the carriage, they were four experienced soldiers in the Morningstar colors. My father's knights, Marcus and Elena, stood by our carriage. Marcus was a grizzled veteran with a scarred face and calculating eyes. Elena was younger but carried herself with quiet confidence.
"Young master, Lady Valerie," Marcus said with a respectful nod. "We're ready when you are."
Valerie climbed into the carriage, and I followed. The interior was comfortable but not lavish as oe would expect of their status, it was designed for long journeys rather than luxury. As we settled in, the driver cracked the reins and we began moving.
"It's a three-day journey to the Crimson Peaks region," Valerie said, pulling out a map. "We'll stop at Riverhold tonight, then Thornwick tomorrow. The third day we should reach Ashford, the largest town near the affected area."
I studied the map, noting the locations. Ashford. That name was familiar from the novel—it was one of the first towns to be completely destroyed when the dungeon outbreak occurred.
"What do we know about the situation in Ashford?" I asked.
"My father's last report said the town is still intact but nervous. The monster attacks have been increasing, and several merchant caravans have gone missing on the mountain roads." She traced a route with her finger. "The local lord, Baron Ashford, has been requesting aid from the crown, but so far nothing substantial has been sent."
"And we're going there to assess investment opportunities?"
"Officially, yes. My father wants to establish trade routes through the Crimson Peaks as there are valuable mineral deposits in those mountains. But..." She lowered the map, meeting my eyes. "I think he's more concerned about the instability there. He wants to know if it's a temporary problem or something worse."
"And what do you think it is?"
Valerie was quiet for a moment, her crimson eyes thoughtful. "I think something is very wrong. The pattern of attacks, the strange creatures, the timing—it all feels... deliberate. Like something is building."
She was more perceptive than I had given her credit for. Of course she was—in the novel, her intelligence had been one of her greatest weapons.
"Then we need to be careful," I said.
"Always." She folded the map and leaned back against the seat. "Tell me something, Chase. Why did you ask about dungeon theory specifically?"
I had known this question would come eventually. "Call it intuition. Everything I've read about the warning signs matches what's happening in the east. Increased monster activity, spatial anomalies, concentrated magical energy—those are all precursors to dungeon manifestation."
"You've been studying this thoroughly."
"I want to be useful. Not just dead weight you have to protect."
That earned me a small smile. "You're not dead weight anymore. Barely competent, maybe, but improving."
"I'll take it."
The first day of travel passed uneventfully. We stopped briefly for lunch, then continued through rolling hills and farmland. Valerie spent most of the journey reading reports her father had sent, occasionally sharing relevant information with me.
As the sun began to set, the Riverhold town appeared on the horizon.
---
Riverhold was a modest trading town built along a major river. The inn we stopped at was clean and well-maintained, clearly used to hosting traveling nobles.
"Two rooms," Valerie told the innkeeper, a portly man with a friendly face.
"Actually," I interrupted, and Valerie shot me a look. "We'll just need one. We're married."
The innkeeper nodded without comment, but Valerie pulled me aside as he went to prepare our room.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Maintaining appearances," I said quietly. "We're supposed to be a newly married couple. Taking separate rooms would raise questions."
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. "Fine. But you're taking the floor."
"Fair enough."
Our room was modest but comfortable. After dinner in the common room—during which I noticed several travelers discussing the situation in the east with worried expressions—we retired for the night.
True to my word, I arranged blankets on the floor while Valerie took the bed.
"This is ridiculous," she said, watching me from the bed. "The floor is going to be uncomfortable."
'Isn't this what she wanted?...'
"I've slept in worse."
"No you haven't."
She had me there. "Then I'll start now."
Valerie sighed. "Just... get in the bed, Chase. It's large enough for both of us. And I'm not going to have you complaining about back pain during training."
"Are you sure?"
"Just keep to your side."
I climbed into bed, careful to maintain distance between us. We lay there in the darkness, and I could feel the tension radiating off her.
"Relax," I said softly. "I'm not going to try anything."
"I know," she replied. "That's not what I'm worried about."
"Then what?"
Silence. Then, quietly: "I'm worried that I'm starting to want you to."
My breath caught. Before I could respond, she continued.
"This wasn't supposed to happen. I was prepared for a political marriage. A partnership at best. But you..." She turned toward me in the darkness. "You make me feel things I wasn't prepared to feel."
"Valerie..."
"Don't say anything. Just... let me say this." She took a breath. "I don't trust easily. People have used me, tried to manipulate me, seen me as nothing more than a stepping stone to power. So when you said you fell for me, I assumed it was the same thing. Another manipulation."
"It's not."
"I know. Or at least, I'm starting to believe it's not." Her hand found mine under the covers. "And that terrifies me more than any monster we might face."
I turned toward her, close enough to see her face in the dim moonlight filtering through the window. "Why does it terrify you?"
"Because if I let myself fall for you, and it turns out I'm wrong about you... I don't think I could come back from that."
The vulnerability in her voice made my chest ache. This was the woman who would become the Crimson Catastrophe—the villain who trusted no one, who viewed love as weakness. And here she was, admitting she was afraid of being hurt.
"You're not wrong about me," I said, bringing her hand to my lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I swear it, Valerie. I will never betray you. Never hurt you and never give you reason to regret trusting me."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she moved closer, closing the distance between us until her head rested against my chest.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered.
"Then I'll keep them all."
We fell asleep like that, holding each other, and for the first time since waking up with memories of the novel, I felt something close to peace.
---
The second day of travel took us through denser forests and hillier terrain. The mood among our guards grew more serious as we traveled further east—they were alert, hands never far from their weapons.
"We're entering the outer edges of the affected region," Marcus explained during a brief stop. "Stay vigilant."
Indeed, signs of trouble began appearing. We passed a burned farmstead, the buildings reduced to charred ruins. Further along, we saw a merchant caravan that had been attacked—overturned wagons and scattered goods, but no bodies.
"They must have gotten away," Elena observed. "Or been taken."
Valerie's expression grew grim. "How recent?"
"Within the last day or two, my lady."
We continued with increased caution. Valerie sat beside me in the carriage, her hand resting on the hilt of her rapier. I kept my own sword close, the enchanted blade my father had given me.
"Are you afraid?" Valerie asked quietly.
"Terrified," I admitted. "But I'm here regardless."
She smiled slightly. "Bravery isn't the absence of fear. It's acting despite it."
"Is that from a book?"
"From my mother, actually. Before she passed."
I'd forgotten—in the novel, Valerie's mother had died when she was young. Another piece of tragedy that had shaped her into the villain she became.
"She sounds wise."
"She was." Valerie looked out the window. "She always said I was too guarded and too afraid to let people in. I think she would like you."
"Really?"
"She would d say you're either very brave or very stupid for trying to get past my walls." Valerie glanced at me. "I haven't decided which yet."
"Can't it be both?"
That earned me a genuine laugh—a sound I was coming to treasure.
We reached Thornwick by evening, another town that seemed tense and worried. The inn was less welcoming here, the locals eyeing strangers with suspicion.
That night, Valerie didn't even suggest separate sleeping arrangements. We shared the bed without discussion, and when she curled up against me in the darkness, it felt natural.
"One more day," she murmured. "Then we'll see what we're really dealing with."
"Whatever it is, we'll face it together."
"Together," she echoed, and I felt her press a light kiss to my shoulder before she fell asleep.
I stayed awake a while longer, listening to her breathing, feeling the weight of her trust in me.
Tomorrow we would reach Ashford. Tomorrow I'd see if I could actually change the story's fate.
But tonight, I held the woman I was meant to save, and prayed I was strong enough to do it.
---
The third day dawned gray and overcast. The atmosphere grew heavier as we traveled, and even the horses seemed nervous.
"We're close," Marcus said. "Ashford is just beyond that ridge."
As we crested the hill, the town came into view. Ashford was larger than I had expected, with stone walls and what looked like a garrison. But even from a distance, I could see the signs of fortification—hastily erected wooden barriers, guards patrolling the walls, and smoke rising from what looked like recent fires just outside the town limits.
"It's worse than the reports suggested," Valerie said, her expression grave.
Our carriage rolled toward the gates, where guards immediately stopped us.
"State your business!" one called out.
"Lady Valerie Morningstar and party, here on behalf of Duke Morningstar," our driver announced.
The guard's demeanor immediately changed. "My lady! Baron Ashford has been expecting you. Please, enter quickly. The gates don't stay open long these days."
As we passed through into Ashford, I saw citizens moving with purpose and fear. Weapons were common, and everyone seemed ready to run or fight at a moment's notice.
"This is bad," I muttered.
"Yes," Valerie agreed. "And it's about to get worse."
She was right. Because as we approached the Baron's manor in the center of town, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
In the distance, beyond the town walls, the Crimson Peaks mountains seemed to shimmer with an unnatural light. The air itself felt wrong, charged with energy that made my skin prickle.
The dungeon was manifesting. And we'd arrived just in time to witness it.