First day to Lamig
The wheels of the grand carriage creaked gently over the road, cushioned by thick rugs and finely-wrought suspension. Outside, the cold air swirled softly around the long line of carriages weaving their way through the hills. Snowflakes fluttered like shy petals in the dusk, the soft flurry of the first evening whispering Lamig's welcome long before the travelers arrived.
Inside the last carriage, warmth and refinement surrounded its occupants. Queen Mother Raina, seated elegantly with a fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders, held a cup of warm spiced tea in her hands. The gold embroidery on her cloak glinted subtly with the sway of the carriage. Across from her sat Lady Kanha, equally poised, wrapped in a deep crimson and gold robe that shimmered with her Empress's emblem.
The silence between them wasn't cold—it was simply the stillness of two women used to power, both observing, both thinking.
Raina spoke first, her voice gentle, rich with nostalgia.
> "Lamig is beautiful this time of year. It's always a wonder… like walking through a kingdom built on clouds. The snow there isn't cruel—it's soft, gracious."
She smiled, sipping her tea. "They have a sweet treat there—frozen honey with petals. The moment it touches your tongue, it melts like a dream. I always had too many."
Kanha smiled politely, hands resting neatly in her lap.
> "It sounds lovely, my lady. I've never been beyond the inner provinces."
> "Ah," Raina said with a knowing chuckle, "then I must make sure you taste everything. It's part of the journey, after all. Not just duty and appearances—but life, in full."
She turned her eyes subtly to Kanha. "And speaking of life… have you given any thought to your future, Kanha?"
Kanha's breath caught slightly. She adjusted her sleeve.
> "My duty lies with Her Majesty," she said, smooth but rehearsed. "Especially now that she is expecting. My focus is entirely on her wellbeing."
Raina nodded slowly, as if appreciating the diplomacy of the answer. But there was a gleam in her eye that didn't leave.
> "Of course. You have served her faithfully."
She paused, then added with a tilt of her head, "But surely, you've had offers? A lady of your standing and grace… you're no stranger to attention, I assume."
Kanha shifted subtly. Her lips formed a small, elegant smile.
> "There have been suitors, my lady… but none that worth leaving her Majesty yet."
Raina set her cup down gently on the carved tray between them. Her gaze was warm, but it pierced deeper than Kanha was comfortable with.
> "I see."
A beat.
"Though I hear you favor a particular standard… perhaps one quite close to my family."
Kanha blinked—just once—but the smile didn't fade. She inclined her head respectfully, but she did not respond.
Raina laughed softly, not unkindly, and leaned back against the velvet cushion.
> "Relax, dear. I'm only teasing. You've done well by Nailah, and by this house. I don't pry where I am not needed."
There was an unspoken yet in the air. But Raina didn't press.
The rest of the ride carried on in soft silence, broken only by the clinking of tea cups and the occasional call of a rider outside as snow thickened on the path ahead.
One the second day of the journey in Lord Tando's carriage.
The steady rhythm of the carriage wheels was a lullaby, gentle and hypnotic against the winter hush outside. Inside the richly adorned carriage, draped in teal and gold, Kiara lay nestled against Tando, her fingers idly tracing the embroidered edge of his robe.
They were warm beneath the layered fur blankets, the soft glow of a hanging lantern painting their faces in amber tones. His arm was wrapped around her, and the air smelled faintly of sandalwood and something sweet—maybe the candied ginger she'd packed for the journey.
She tilted her head to look at him, her voice soft and curious.
> "Tando… were you and Kaisen always close? Like, really close? Do you tell each other everything?"
Tando chuckled low, the sound reverberating through his chest.
> "You're curious tonight."
He glanced down at her, brushing a loose curl from her face.
"We don't need to tell each other everything. We just know. Kaisen, Arvin, Kian… and me—we've always had that kind of bond. Unspoken. Loyal. Like brothers born of battle and blood."
Kiara blinked, a little taken aback by the weight of his words.
> "Even the Emperor and General?"
> "Especially them."
He paused, then added with a smirk,
"But if I were to compare what I know of them to what I know of you… they'd seem like strangers."
That made her eyes widen. He leaned in, his gaze suddenly tender.
> "You are all I know, Kiara. When I close my eyes, it's your voice I hear. When something happens, it's you I want to tell first. You're not just part of my life… you're the center of it."
She swallowed hard, lips parting slightly, but before she could respond, his tone shifted, more pensive now.
> "And… since you asked about Kaisen."
He exhaled.
"He's not in love with Kanha. Never was."
Kiara blinked again, stunned. "Then…?"
> "It's Mirha," Tando said, voice lowered as if sharing a sacred truth.
"He's been taken by her for a long time now. You can see it in the way he watches her when he thinks no one's looking. Kaisen's not good at hiding emotions—never has been. He feels things deeply. That's why he hasn't acted on it."
> "Because of Kanha?"
Tando nodded.
> "Because Kanha has noble blood. Because she was the one chosen by the Empress, placed closest to Mirha. Kaisen thinks courting Mirha while Kanha remains unwed would humiliate her. And he respects her too much for that. So he waits... quietly. That's why he stays away from Taico whenever he can. It's easier to love from afar."
Kiara sat up slightly, lips parted. "I… I had no idea."
Tando leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.
> "You wanted to know," he whispered, then kissed her—slow, deep, full of a tenderness that said more than words could.
When they pulled apart, her eyes lingered on his, searching.
> "That's… a bittersweet triangle," she murmured.
Tando nodded.
> "The kind that's built on restraint, not desire. The hardest kind."
Then he asked, almost absently, "But who does Mirha love?"
Kiara's expression shifted. The question echoed in her mind longer than she expected. Her brows furrowed gently.
> "I… I don't know. She's always kind, soft, gentle. She loves her mother. That's certain. But I've never seen her… ache for anyone. Never seen her eyes follow someone in secret. She loves… in a different way."
Tando leaned back against the carriage wall, arms pulling her close again.
> "Then maybe no one has ever made her feel safe enough to love out loud."
They sat in silence after that, both quietly turning the thought over.
Outside, the snow thickened, the road to Lamig winding ever onward into night.
On the third day of the journey.
The sun hung low and golden, filtering through tall trees and glinting off the surface of the slow-moving river. Snowflakes had stopped falling, and the ground was crisp but not too harsh underfoot. Horses drank peacefully by the riverside, their breaths rising in little puffs of mist. The soft murmur of soldiers, nobles, and attendants filled the temporary camp, mingling with the scent of pine, woodsmoke, and warm spiced bread being unpacked from the traveling kitchen.
The carriages stood in neat formation behind the treeline, each one distinct in its embellishment, bearing the sigils and colors of noble families. Most of the travelers had stepped out to stretch their legs, walk off the stiffness of the road, and enjoy a moment of nature before the evening ride resumed.
But Gina remained hidden in her carriage, the curtains drawn tight, the air inside thick with silence. Duke Rnzo had stepped out, speaking quietly with the Emperor's men before walking past the Queen Mother's carriage. His expression was unreadable as he passed by Mirha's.
She had chosen a spot near the riverbank where the campfire smoke thinned and the breeze still carried hints of the forest's sweetness. Her shoes sat beside her, her feet tucked beneath the hem of her gown for warmth. Beside her sat Taji, one of the guards posted close to the royal carriages. He had a wide smile, a booming laugh, and always seemed to have a story.
> "...And then my youngest—bless him—he brings in a whole loaf of bread he'd snuck from the kitchen, says it's for the dog but the crumbs on his face betray him," Taji was saying, laughter in his voice.
Mirha chuckled, her voice soft but warm.
> "It sounds like your home is full of love," she said, gazing out toward the trees.
> "It is," Taji replied proudly. "Two boys and my wife, Mala. She's fierce, but kind. Keeps me in check."
Mirha smiled more fully, resting her hands in her lap, when suddenly a long shadow stretched over her.
The air shifted. She felt it before she looked up.
Lord Kaisen stood before them.
Taji immediately rose to his feet, bowing with crisp respect.
> "My Lord," he said.
Mirha followed, bowing deeply.
> "My Lord," she echoed, her voice steady but heart beginning to thrum unexpectedly.
Kaisen's dark eyes lingered on her. There was a quiet tension in his jaw, not from anger, but from something else—something harder to name.
> "Are you well?" he asked finally, his voice quiet, deep.
> "Yes, my Lord," Mirha replied gently. "The journey has been comfortable."
A small breath left him, almost like a sigh of relief. His posture loosened slightly, as if the answer had been heavy with meaning for him.
> "Good," he said with a nod. "If you're growing restless… you're free to walk around. The riverside is safe. The General's men have secured the area."
She hesitated. She had indeed wanted to move a little, but she wasn't sure if it was proper to admit it.
> "I appreciate your concern," she said with a small bow. "If Lady Kanha is willing to join, then I would be glad to walk for a bit."
Kaisen gave a faint smile—tight-lipped but undeniably fond. Deep down, a flicker of disappointment moved through him. But he nodded.
> "Then I'll accompany you both," he said, voice firm, offering no room for misinterpretation or scandal.
Taji quickly bowed and made his way to the Queen Mother's campfire, where Lady Kanha was seated beside her, sipping warm tea. When Taji approached and relayed Lord Kaisen's request, Kanha's heart leapt. For a moment, she thought this was it—an invitation meant solely for her.
But when she arrived at the riverbank and saw Mirha waiting quietly beside Lord Kaisen, that excitement slipped into quiet resentment. Still, her face was composed, her expression gentle.
> "You called, my Lord?" Kanha asked with a smile, though her gaze briefly flicked toward Mirha.
> "Yes," Kaisen answered. "The afternoon air is fresh. I thought a short walk might ease the road's strain."
So the three of them began to walk.
They followed the curve of the river, where the sun's reflection danced like fireflies. Some guards stood nearby, chatting quietly. The crunch of snow underfoot was soft, the only sounds the river's gentle hum and occasional birdsong.
Kanha and Kaisen walked close, their words sparse. Mirha wandered a little farther, letting the cold breeze comb through her hair. She stopped by the water, lifting her gown slightly to remove her shoes. She dipped her feet in with a cautious breath. The chill shot up her spine, but the sensation was strangely calming.
After a few moments, she stepped back, drying her feet quickly and slipping her shoes on again.
> "That was enough," she murmured to herself. "Too cold."
She made her way back toward the trees when she spotted Kaisen and Kanha walking in her direction.
Kaisen noticed her first.
> "You're back already?" he asked. "Something wrong?"
Mirha dipped her head slightly, still adjusting her shawl.
> "The water is very cold, my Lord," she replied, her voice touched with a smile. "It numbed my toes."
Kaisen chuckled, just barely.
> "Well, it's nearly time to resume our journey anyway. We should return."
Kanha nodded politely. Her smile had grown strained.
The trio made their way back in silence. The air was still crisp, but the shadows had grown longer. Carriages were being readied, servants calling out instructions, horses guided back from the river with their manes damp.
As Mirha reached her carriage, she glanced across just in time to see Duke Rnzo returning to his own, his hand briefly resting on the side of the door before entering.
Mirha paused a moment, then climbed into her carriage.
Taji returned shortly after, stretching his arms before settling across from her once more.
> "So, Lady Mirha," he began, grinning, "does someone like you truly not have a line of suitors?"
Mirha tilted her head, then smiled.
> "I have suitors, Taji. Kind, respectable ones."
> "And yet you remain unwed," he said, half teasing.
She looked out the window, her voice quiet but unwavering.
> "I wish to see Lady Kanha married first. It wouldn't feel right to accept a proposal before she does."
Taji studied her for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully.
> "You're a rare one, Lady Mirha. Most would think only of themselves."
Mirha just smiled faintly, fingers grazing the edge of her seat.
Outside, the sun dipped lower still, and the caravan began to move once more, continuing its journey to Lamig.
The night before their arrival.
The carriage rocked softly in the deep silence of night, lit only by a faint glow from the moonlight slipping through a crack in the curtains. The scent of the forest air mingled with worn leather and warm bodies, making the stillness even more suffocating.
Duke Rnzo sat still, his gaze fixed on the quiet figure resting across from him. Gina's face was serene in sleep—or what appeared to be sleep. Her brows were smoothed, lips parted just slightly, lashes casting shadows on her soft cheeks. But even in sleep, she held herself tightly, like a coiled spring.
Rnzo leaned back against the cushioned wall, running a hand through his short dark hair in frustration. His tanned fingers curled into a light fist on his knee. He watched her longer than he should've.
"Why can't she tell me everything?" he whispered into the dark, his voice rasping with restrained ache.
"We've been in silence since this dumb journey began..."
His eyes burned from keeping them open too long, so he let them shut—just for a moment. Maybe it would numb the irritation in his chest.
Across from him, Gina heard everything. She had been awake the entire time, forcing her breathing to remain even, her body still. The tension between them was unbearable—suffocating. Every stolen glance they exchanged during the day, every time their fingers accidentally brushed and were snatched away too quickly—it had left her raw.
She waited until his breathing shifted. Slower. He must've fallen asleep.
Quietly, Gina sat up. The plush blanket around her fell to her waist. Her body moved cautiously, trembling with anticipation, fear, and something else she refused to name. She crawled gently onto her knees, the cushions dipping under her weight. Inch by inch, she moved toward him until she was kneeling directly in front of him—between his legs.
His face was even more handsome in sleep. There was no furrow in his brow, no tightness in his jaw. His lashes, thick and dark, fanned out across his sun-kissed skin. She smiled, lips barely parting. "He looks... soft," she thought. "Peaceful."
Her hand reached out, trembling, and brushed his hair back with a feather-light touch. It was softer than she expected—silky and warm. Her fingers lingered there a moment longer, just breathing him in.
But when she looked down to his face again—
Their eyes met.
Gina froze.
Rnzo's dark eyes were wide open, silently watching her. Her breath caught. His expression was unreadable—no anger, no amusement. Just raw, intense stillness. Time stopped. Neither moved.
Gina slowly pulled her hand back, but her fingers brushed his jaw on the way. She swallowed hard, trying to retreat, but her body refused.
Rnzo sat up with quiet strength, his movements controlled but heavy. He swung his feet down to the floor, and now Gina found herself trapped—kneeling between his legs, too close to breathe properly. She lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to meet his eyes.
"Look at me," he said, his voice low but clear.
She hesitated. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. But slowly, carefully, she lifted her eyes and met his gaze.
He reached out his hand.
Gina stared at it for a moment. Her thoughts screamed at her to run—to flee the way she always did. But her fingers moved on their own, slipping into his hand.
He pulled her up, gentle but firm, sitting her beside him.
For a moment, she thought he would say something. Maybe ask her why she avoided him. But the silence between them wasn't empty anymore—it was heavy with unsaid things, promises, regrets, and yearning.
Then in a breath, in one smooth, unhesitating movement—Rnzo was on top of her. His hands braced himself at either side of her as she lay beneath him, wide-eyed, lips parted, chest heaving. She could barely think.
His gaze pinned her, intense and unreadable. Not angry. Not lustful. Just... aching.
She wanted to say stop. Wanted to tell him this was dangerous, foolish, impulsive.
But her body betrayed her first.
Rnzo leaned in their lips met like fire and thunder.
It wasn't a kiss of hunger—it was one of tension. Of all the pain they didn't speak. The silence that tortured them. The yearning they had buried for so long. It poured out through their lips, over and over.
They kissed like the world had gone quiet.
His hand cupped her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek with reverence. Her fingers curled in his shirt, gripping it tightly as if afraid he'd vanish if she let go.
They broke for air. Gasping. Breathing in each other's scent. Then kissed again.
Again.
Again.
Time lost all shape. They kissed with aching slowness, with pauses and soft sighs. Sometimes she would press her forehead to his, breathless and flushed, only to be pulled back into the storm of his mouth. Sometimes his hand would stroke her hair, her waist, her back, but never wandering—only grounding her to the moment.
Minutes passed. Then an hour.
The world beyond the carriage didn't exist anymore.
Finally, Gina collapsed against his chest, dizzy, lips swollen, heart loud. Rnzo wrapped his arms around her tightly, pulling her in like a lifeline.
She didn't speak. Neither did he.
They didn't need to.
The silence wasn't unbearable anymore.
She fell asleep like that, curled into the warmth of his arms, lips still tingling from the kiss that said everything they couldn't.