On the road

“You do realize we have other food, right? Or do you expect us to be eating potatoes for every meal?” Io says, eyeing her breakfast skeptically.

I shrug, chewing on the last of mine. “We had some leftovers. No point wasting them.”

Io doesn’t respond, just gives me a look—one of those unimpressed, "sure, whatever you say" looks she’s perfected over time.

I let it slide. My mind is elsewhere anyway.

Last night was… weird. Not bad. Just different.

Awkward moments. Honest moments. A little too much honesty, maybe. But maybe we need conversations like that—ones that aren’t about trade routes, survival, or making sure I don’t accidentally ruin diplomatic relations with the merchants.

I still don’t know how to process everything we talked about. Or the fact that we actually talked about it.

Before I can spiral into overthinking, Io breaks through my thoughts.

“You ready to go?” she asks, already standing.

“We can go.” I nod, grabbing our luggage and taking one last glance around the room. Almost ready.

“Wait, don’t forget that,” I say, passing her the veil.

She takes it with a smirk. “Oh, thank you, dear husband.”

I blink. Not at the words, but at the way she says them. Light, teasing, but without the usual bite. More playful than mocking.

I must be staring because she tilts her head slightly. “What?”

“Nothing. Just—” I shake my head. “Let’s go.”

Is it me, or is she getting a little too into this whole pretend marriage thing?

We make our way downstairs. The inn is quiet in the early morning, with only a few other travelers finishing their meals. The smell of stale ale and wood smoke lingers in the air, mingling with the sharper scent of something frying in the kitchen.

Io suddenly stops before we reach the counter. “Let me try something,” she mutters before stepping ahead of me.

I raise an eyebrow but stay back, watching.

She approaches the old innkeeper with a graceful nod, hands folded in front of her like some noblewoman. “Thank you so much for your hospitality. We’re ready to leave.”

The old man practically beams at her. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, young lady. That will be five—” He pauses, glancing between Io and me before lowering his voice slightly. “No, four bronze Edrivanes.”

A discount? Seriously?

Io, ever the merchant, knows exactly how to work people.

It’s funny, though—that’s the first time I’ve heard the actual name of the coins. Usually, everyone just calls them "coins" or "pieces." Edrivane—that’s the name of the kingdom. I should really go through my notes again…

Io dips her head slightly, face mostly hidden by the veil. “Thank you, good sir.” Then, without missing a beat, she snaps her fingers and gestures toward me without even looking back.

She snapped at me.

She actually snapped at me.

Not that I’m not used to Io ordering me around, but not in public, not like this. I narrow my eyes at the back of her head but say nothing.

Instead, I step forward and lay the coins on the counter. “Here you go.”

The old man gives me a single nod—stone-faced, barely acknowledging me.

Oh, so that’s how it is.

I glance at Io as we turn to leave. “Are you enjoying yourself?” I mutter under my breath.

She grins beneath the veil. “Immensely.”

Outside, the morning air is crisp, carrying the lingering chill of the night. Our cart is still where we left it, the horse shifting lazily in place.

We load up quickly, checking our supplies one last time. Everything’s still there. Nothing stolen. A good sign.

I take the reins and climb into the driver’s seat. Io follows, settling in beside me.

“The next time we sleep, it’ll be in Haverstadt,” I say, staring down the road ahead.

Io pulls her veil back slightly, just enough to let me see her face. “That’s assuming we don’t get into any trouble on the way.”

I sigh. “You could have waited until after we left the village to jinx us.”

She laughs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With a flick of the reins, the cart begins moving.

Haverstadt awaits.

###

“You’re drifting left again! Pull right!” Io’s voice cuts through the air, sharp as ever.

“I’m going straight!” I protest, tightening my grip on the reins.

“You call that straight?”

“You’re the one who taught me how to drive this thing!” I shoot back.

“Clearly, that was a mistake,” she mutters, shaking her head.

Before I can respond, she suddenly straightens up. “Move, someone’s coming.”

I glance up the road. A lone rider is approaching fast, kicking up a small cloud of dust as his horse barrels toward us.

“Yeah, yeah, to the right. Happy?” I pull the cart aside, giving him plenty of room.

“Thank you,” Io says, though I can hear the smirk in her voice.

The rider speeds past without a glance in our direction. His dark cloak flutters behind him, a small flag pinned to his back rippling in the wind. The faint glint of metal catches my eye—armor, but not a full set. Light, designed for speed.

“Messenger?” Io asks.

“Because of the speed?” I say, stating the obvious.

“And the armor. Maybe he’s carrying orders.” She watches him disappear down the road, her expression thoughtful.

“Think something’s happening in Haverstadt?” I ask.

“Who knows? It wouldn’t be surprising, not with all the supply wagons we’ve seen these past months.”

“Maybe it’s all connected.”

“Maybe.” She leans back, crossing her arms. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

That’s not exactly comforting.

“You know,” I say, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere, “back home, I could do my job without even leaving my house.”

“That explains a lot.” Io smirks.

“I’m serious. I wish we could do that now—just sit somewhere, gather information, and send other people to deal with things.” I let out a long breath. “Instead, here I am, bouncing on a wooden bench, trying not to run us into a ditch.”

Io hums in amusement but doesn’t immediately respond.

I glance at the road ahead. I’d be sitting down for lunch about now if I were still in the village, maybe preparing for an evening lesson with Io or reviewing the ledgers.

It’s funny—I used to dream about escaping the monotony of my life. And now, after months of adjusting to an entirely new world, I find myself… missing the routine. Missing the village.

Am I homesick?

That’s new.

“Were you just not important enough to leave the house, or did your world have the technology to do it?” Io teases, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Very funny. I actually had subordinates, you know.” I lean into the banter. “And yes, it was technology. It’s amazing how many things boil down to ‘we just had the tech for it.’”

Io shakes her head. “Shame. I thought you were some mastermind orchestrating everything from the shadows.”

“Not quite. I was an expert in sitting at a desk and shifting numbers around.”

She snorts. “Well, now you’re an expert at shifting us down this road. Speaking of which, I think it’s time we eat something. I’m choosing this time.”

With that, she pulls out our provisions, rummaging through the bag with practiced ease.

“We’ve got bread,” she lists, pulling out a wrapped bundle. “A piece of smoked cheese… and do you want a carrot?”

I glance at her. “What’s the alternative?”

“Nothing.”

“Then I’ll take the carrot.”

She smirks, handing it over before unwrapping a small apple. “We can split this one.”

I nod, taking a bite of the carrot as the cart bumps along.

The road stretches ahead, leading us ever closer to the city. Whatever awaits us in Haverstadt, we’ll face it soon.

For now, we eat.

###

Stone.

Tree stump.

Side road.

Shrine.

Oh, a shrine. That could be… funny.

“Let’s stop for a moment,” I say, tugging slightly on the reins.

“Here?” Nate frowns. “What’s here?”

“This.” I point at the small wooden shrine just off the side of the road. It’s nothing special, just a modest structure, barely taller than Nate, with a simple carving of a saint or prophet—whoever they revere around here. It’s weathered, with old offerings of dried flowers and melted candle wax scattered at its base.

“What about it?” Nate asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “We’ve passed a couple of shrines like that before.”

“I just thought it might be a good time for a little prayer,” I say innocently. “You know, stay sharp.”

Nate’s stare flattens. “Of course it’s another test. And here I thought you got religious all of a sudden.”

“Hurry up, someone’s coming.” I nod toward the road, where a cart is approaching in the distance.

Nate huffs but jumps down from the cart, straightening his posture like a man on a mission. He strides toward the shrine, then hesitates mid-step.

“Was it the left one?” He glances back at me, his voice low.

“The right one,” I correct.

“Yeah, got it.” He kneels, placing his right knee down.

At least he listens. If we’re going to survive in the city, he needs to be convincing. A fake merchant, a fake husband, and now a fake pious traveler—he’s collecting roles like a bad stage actor.

The other cart slows to a stop beside ours. The driver climbs down—a young man, dark-haired, dressed in modest but well-kept clothes. He looks weirdly familiar.

I pull the veil lower over my face on instinct.

Where do I know him from?

Then it hits me.

Otmar’s aide.

Damn it.

I tighten my grip on the reins, keeping my posture still but alert. If he recognizes Nate, we might need to bolt.

The man approaches the shrine, kneeling down beside Nate.

They nod at each other.

Neither speaks.

I hold my breath.

Nate stands, dusts himself off, and turns back toward me, walking with careful, measured steps. Almost there—

“Hey, you look familiar,” the man says suddenly. “Weren’t you in that forest?”

My stomach clenches.

Nate hesitates for just a fraction of a second, then glances at me. His eyes flicker with something—panic, maybe—but he recovers quickly. I raise my hand slightly, signaling him to relax.

He takes a breath, then turns back to the man with an easy smile. “I’m afraid I haven’t met you, good sir. But if you mention a forest, then perhaps you met my twin brother?”

The man frowns. “A twin brother? Hmmm…”

“Well, you see, he’s a pious priest, a missionary from what I remember. But, as you can see, the life of celibacy was not for me.”

Nate gestures toward the cart—toward me.

I almost laugh.

He’s getting better at this.

The man studies Nate’s face for a long moment, then shrugs. “Ohh, that must be it. Well, I’ve taken too much of your time already. May God guide you to wherever you’re going.”

He climbs back onto his cart and rides off without another word.

Nate and I watch him go before turning to each other.

At the same time, we both say, “How did that work?”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Is this guy an idiot?” Well he never seemed particularly sharp.

Nate grins. “Or am I just that good at flaunting my wife?”

I smirk. “Oh yes, you’re clearly a master of the art.”

Nate lets out a dramatic sigh. “It’s a burden, truly.”

I roll my eyes but can’t hide the amusement in my voice. “I think you’re learning from me.”

“Good for me, then.”

No—good for me. This will be fun.

The afternoon sun hangs lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the road ahead. There’s still a long way to go before we reach the city.

And if this is a taste of what’s to come, it’s going to be a very interesting journey.

###

I’m really not used to long road trips.

Is this even a road trip? Or a cart trip?

All I know is I’m tired. My arms are sore from keeping the reins steady, and my back is stiff from sitting on this wooden bench for so many hours. Sure, there are no signs to read, no lanes to follow, no angry drivers honking at me—but somehow, this is still exhausting.

I glance up at the sky. The sun is lower now, casting a golden glow over the fields. I straighten up. “We should be there soon, right?” The words come out half-mumbled, mostly to myself. We should be near Haverstadt already… shouldn’t we?

No response.

Huh.

I turn my head and—oh.

Io is asleep.

Her head is tilted slightly to the side, her arms crossed, her veil slipping just enough for me to see a few stray strands of hair. The constant rocking of the cart hasn’t bothered her at all. Honestly, I applaud her—how she can sleep through this is an achievement.

I shake my head with a smirk. “Unbelievable.”

I should probably wake her up soon, but she looks so peaceful—well, as peaceful as Io can look. No sharp remarks, no scheming expression, just… resting. I decide to let her have a little more time.

Instead, I focus on the road.

A tree. A rock.

Oh, a turn up ahead—leading to more trees.

Trees, more trees, dead trees—

Wait.

Wall.

A wall.

A big wall.

The sight of it jolts me fully awake.

“Io,” I nudge her shoulder, careful but firm. “Wake up.”

“What?” she mumbles groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“Wall,” I say, gesturing ahead.

She squints. “Yeah, wall. Cool.” She leans back again, eyes half-closed.

I wait a beat.

Then, like a candle suddenly relit, her entire posture changes.

“This must be it!” She straightens in her seat, rubbing the last traces of sleep from her eyes as she takes in the sight properly. “We’re here!”

Excitement creeps into her voice, but I can’t quite match it. We’re here. That means everything starts now.

The walls loom ahead of us, growing taller with each passing moment. My stomach twists—not quite fear, not quite excitement. Just… nerves.

Io, on the other hand, is staring in awe.

“Why are the walls so big?” I ask, trying to distract myself. “I thought this was a merchant town.”

“It is. But it’s also a former border town,” she says without taking her eyes off the structure. “That could explain it.”

Right. So this whole area was once a border between nations. Makes sense. Even after peace, people don’t just tear down walls.

Still, we have more important things to talk about. And judging by the way she shifts in her seat, Io’s thinking the same thing.

“We need to find an inn for the night,” she says, slipping back into planning mode. “We should stay close to the walls—it’ll be cheaper there.”

That tracks. Merchants and wealthier folks probably stay closer to the city center, meaning the outer inns cater to travelers on a budget.

“Tomorrow, we start gathering information,” she continues. “Merchants, bards, innkeepers—anyone who will talk to us. The more we hear, the better.”

I nod. “And the money?”

“We can sell some of what we brought while talking to people,” she says. “If we’re careful, we should have enough to stay for a while.”

Right. If we’re careful.

We’re getting closer now. The gate stands wide, guarded but open. Travelers move in and out—carts, riders, pedestrians. Some look like merchants, others like farmers or craftsmen. There’s a steady hum of movement, of voices, of city life.

Io adjusts her veil. I shift my grip on the reins.

“This is it,” I mutter under my breath.

No turning back now.

We ride toward the city gates.