The carriage moved in steady rhythm, cutting through the morning hush as they left the city behind. Now, only trees, hills, and wide stretches of wilderness flanked either side of the dusty road. The cobbled streets had given way to forest paths and open fields, the world growing quieter with each passing hour.
Inside Lord Rhaegal's carriage, Malin sat gazing out of the window, his bright eyes following the swaying branches and flickering patches of sunlight. He looked both fascinated and contemplative.
"My lord," he asked, his voice thoughtful, "how long will it take until we reach the North?"
Rhaegal, seated across from him with his arms crossed and legs stretched out, looked toward the boy. "Six days, if we continue at this pace."
Malin turned away from the window, blinking. "Six days? That's a lot," he said, his mouth parted slightly in disbelief.
