Book 3: Chapter 3
Zeno’s group joined up with Wein’s delegation, and all were on their way, making good progress without running into trouble. They still looked over their shoulders for bandits, but the party started to relax once they passed through the disputed territory and entered the Kingdom of Cavarin proper. They weren’t losing focus—or becoming inattentive. It simply wasn’t possible to constantly remain on high alert, especially on a long journey. Anyone who tried would collapse midway from exhaustion. Moderation was key.
Not that this changed anything.
The source of these problems came from the members of the Remnant Army—and Zeno in particular.
The road to the capital of Cavarin was long and time-consuming. Meaning they had time to kill. There were miscellaneous matters, of course, like adjusting the speed of their march forward and providing accommodations, but since Ninym and Raklum could handle these issues, it left Wein with too much time on his hands.
If he had been in a carriage, he could have passed the time sleeping. But the carriage had been destroyed in the bandits’ attack, and the Remnant Army didn’t have any to spare, so he was riding along on a horse, which really wasn’t a prime spot for a nap.
Wein had no idea what to do with himself. But Zeno seemed to take advantage of this and approached him.
“Prince Regent, I have a question.”
“What could it be today?” Wein answered as they rode side by side. This had become their daily ritual. It usually concerned the politics, ideologies, and culture of Natra.
Guess she’s not sick of it yet, he thought with surprise and admiration.