The cold autumn wind constantly whipped against Charles' cheeks, forcing him to shrink his neck into his collar in a fluster, his eyes warily scanning the surroundings.
Just now, Captain Normand had left him here and led his team away, taking the carriage with them.
This seemed to be the west side of the hunting ground, and although the terrain was flat, there were no man-made structures in sight.
In the distance, wild boars occasionally roared from the dense forest; it was the season when they voraciously fed and fiercely competed for mates.
Charles knew that at this time, boars were even more ferocious than bears.
The occasional wolf howls were comparatively less terrifying.
Instinctively, Charles felt urged to leave this place, but his legs didn't budge even an inch—running randomly might bump into wild boars. More importantly, Captain Normand said the Regent wanted him to wait here.
He was now most afraid of seeing his brother, yet also very eager to see him.
