Kingdom of Zektra

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The caravan creaked gently as it rolled down the hill, the sound of wheels crunching over dirt softened by the faint breeze.

The air was crisp, cooler than Cheska would have liked, but warmer compared to the biting chill of Rudenheischt. Outside the window, the landscape unfolded like a canvas, painted with the soft hues of early winter retreating into spring.

Cheska's gaze drifted to the boy resting on her lap.

Kier's small frame rose and fell in rhythm with his steady breaths, his black hair catching the pale sunlight filtering through the carriage window.

His face looked serene, though faint traces of exhaustion lingered. The sight stirred something tender in her chest— a blend of protectiveness and something that she can't name.

The carriage jostled lightly, and her eyes shifted to Ayessa, who sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene smile playing on her lips as she watched the passing scenery.