The first day of travel passed peacefully enough.
Our carriage rolled through familiar territory, mostlyon the Morvan lands. Rolling hills and farmland, small villages where people stopped to watch our procession pass. Children waved from roadside ditches. Farmers paused their work to observe.
Valerie watched them through the window with an expression I was beginning to recognize. There were somewhere in between thoughtful, analytical and processing everything.
"You're doing it again," I said.
"Doing what?"
"You're cataloguing everything. Every village, every field, every person."
"It's just an old habit." She didn't look away from the window. "My father taught me to never pass through territory without understanding it. People, resources, conditions. Knowledge is currency."
"And what's your assessment of Morvan lands?"
She was quiet for a moment. "It's better than I expected, honestly. The villages look maintained. People seem reasonably well-fed. The roads are in decent condition." She finally turned to face me. "You've been implementing changes faster than I realized."
"Edmund's been helpful. And my father has been surprisingly receptive."
"Your father is pragmatic. He sees the value in what you're doing." She tilted her head. "Though some of your ideas are unconventional."
"Like the tax payment plans?"
"Edmund told me about that. The other lords think you're being soft."
"The other lords can think whatever they want. My farmers are productive and fed. Theirs are desperate and resentful." I shrugged. "I know which situation I'd rather manage."
She studied me for a moment. "You think about them too. The common people. The farmers, the merchants, the laborers. Many nobles would rather Carter for tjemsel"
"Most nobles are idiots."
She laughed softly. "Including you, until recently."
"Especially me, until recently."
We fell into comfortable silence as the carriage rolled on. Valerie returned to watching the countryside, and I returned to reviewing notes about the capital's political landscape.
The capital, Aethon, was the kingdom's crown jewel. A massive city built around the royal palace, home to the major noble houses, the Adventurer's Guild headquarters, the largest market in the kingdom, and more political intrigue than anywhere else in the world.
In the novel, it had been described in loving detail—gleaming towers, sprawling markets, ancient architecture. But it had also been the epicenter of corruption, manipulation, and power struggles that would eventually contribute to the kingdom's near-collapse.
I'd been there before, obviously. The original Chase had spent considerable time in Aethon drinking and gambling. But I had never paid attention to the politics, the structures, the people that actually mattered.
This time would be different.
"Tell me about the king," I said.
Valerie glanced at me. "You've met him before."
"Humor me. Your perspective is different from mine."
She considered. "King Aldric is sixty-two years old. He's been on the throne for thirty years. He has a sharp mind, but his health has been declining for the past two years. He governs with careful balance, keeping the major houses from becoming too powerful while maintaining their loyalty."
"What does he want from us?"
"To assess us. We closed a dungeon, saved a town, demonstrated competence and initiative. That makes us interesting to him. Potentially useful." She adjusted her position, settling more comfortably. "He'll want to know if we're assets or wildcards."
"What's the difference?"
"Assets are predictable. They can be deployed, leveraged, relied upon. Wildcards are capable but unpredictable—useful in the short term but potentially dangerous." She met my eyes. "You need to present as an asset."
"How?"
"By being exactly what you've been. Competent, thoughtful, loyal. Not ambitious in ways that threaten the crown. Powerful enough to be useful, controlled enough to be trusted."
"And you? What do you present as?"
"The same as always. My father's daughter. Morningstar's heir. Capable, controlled, and aligned with our family's interests." Something flickered in her expression. "Though apparently I also now present as someone who married well."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation." But she was almost smiling.
---
We stopped for lunch at a roadside inn, a modest establishment that clearly didn't often host noble travelers. The innkeeper nearly tripped over himself trying to accommodate us.
Marcus coordinated with the staff while Elena maintained a perimeter outside. I guided Valerie to a private table in the corner, where we could eat without being easily observed or approached.
"You chose the corner," Valerie noted as she sat. "The walls on two sides create a clear view of the exits."
"Force of habit now. You've been drilling tactical awareness into me for weeks."
"And you've been listening. Good." She accepted wine from a nervous serving girl, offering the girl a reassuring smile that visibly surprised her.
The girl scurried away, and Valerie caught me watching.
"What?"
"You smiled at her. The serving girl."
"Is that unusual?"
"For the Ice Queen of the East? Slightly."
She fixed me with a look. "Don't call me that."
"That's what they call you. Behind your back."
"I know what they call me behind my back." She sipped her wine. "What do you call me?"
"Valerie."
"That's it?"
"That's everything."
She held my gaze for a moment, then looked away, color touching her cheeks. "You're insufferably sentimental sometimes."
"You love it."
"I tolerate it."
Our food arrived—simple but well-prepared. We ate quietly while Marcus joined us briefly to report that everything looked clear.
"There are no signs of surveillance," he said. "Though someone on the road this morning seemed interested in our procession. It could be nothing."
"Or it could be Valdris scouts," Valerie said.
"Possibly. I've had Elena watching. We'll know more by evening."
After Marcus left, I turned back to Valerie. "Do you think they'd move against us on the road?"
"Valdris? No. That's an old tatics, it's too obvious. Their style is more subtle." She tore a piece of bread. "They would wait until we're at the capital, where actions can be dressed up as accidents, misunderstandings, matters of honor."
"Duels."
"Duels. Scandals. Social sabotage." She paused. "Or they might try to turn people against us before we even arrive. Rumors travel faster than carriages."
"What kind of rumors?"
"That you're not really changed—just pretending. That I'm controlling you, using you as a political puppet. That our marriage is a calculated power play designed to threaten other houses." She listed them off calmly, like they didn't affect her. "The usual arsenal."
"Have you dealt with this before? Political attacks?"
"Constantly. Being my father's daughter made me a target from childhood." Something dark crossed her face, quickly suppressed. "You learn to deal with it."
"Or it pushes you toward something worse," I said quietly.
She looked at me sharply. "What do you mean?"
"Just that constant attacks take their toll. That isolation and betrayal have consequences." I chose my words carefully. "I worry sometimes about what it costs you. Keeping up that armor all the time."
Valerie was quiet for a long moment. "You're the first person who's ever worried about that."
"That's exactly what I mean."
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't fully read—somewhere between gratitude and something more complicated. "I'm fine, Chase."
"I know. I just want you to know that you don't have to be fine all the time. At least not with me."
She picked up her wine glass, looking into it. "You say things like that so easily. Like they're obvious. Like I should have always had someone saying them."
"You should have."
She set down the glass. "Don't make me cry in a roadside inn. My reputation would never recover."
I laughed softly. "Wouldn't dream of it."