chapter 12.2

The sky gradually shifted, from the warm hues of golden orange to deepening shades of violet, signaling that night would soon claim the land. The last remnants of sunlight cast elongated shadows along the cobbled path they followed, stretching behind them like silent specters of their journey. The once-warm air grew colder, and the evening breeze carried the earthy scent of fallen leaves, rustling gently as it swept across the narrow road.

Alcard turned his gaze sideways, watching Arwen as she rode beside him. The noblewoman remained poised atop her white steed, her back straight, her hands steady on the reins. Even in the fading light, the fabric of her dress shimmered subtly, a reminder of the wealth and privilege she came from. Yet, what intrigued Alcard most was not her appearance, but her demeanor—unshaken, untroubled. No signs of fear, no hesitation, not even the weariness one might expect from someone unfamiliar with the hardships of the road.

"Arwen," Alcard called, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "Nightfall is approaching. There's a small village a few miles ahead. We can rest there before continuing tomorrow."

Arwen turned her head slightly, offering him a soft, knowing smile. It wasn't the polite smile of nobility, nor the arrogant smirk of someone accustomed to command. It was something more elusive—calm, yet unreadable. Then, with a gentle shake of her head, she dismissed the suggestion.

"I appreciate your concern, Alcard," she replied, her voice as smooth as the evening breeze. "But I don't mind resting in the wilderness. As long as you are here, I trust I have nothing to fear."

Alcard studied her expression, searching for any hint of unease or second-guessing. Yet, Arwen's blue eyes held only certainty. For a noblewoman accustomed to life within castle walls, she seemed strangely at ease on the open road, as if the dangers of Middle Earth were nothing more than a passing thought.

After a moment, Alcard relented. "Very well. We ride on."

Darkness settled over them, draping the land in an eerie silence. The rhythmic clatter of hooves against the stone path was the only constant sound, interrupted only by the occasional call of nocturnal birds in the distance. The trees lining the roadside swayed in the cold night air, their rustling leaves whispering secrets only the wind could understand.

After a long stretch of silence, it was Alcard who finally broke it. His voice was low, almost like a murmur, but there was an underlying weight to his words. "What exactly are you doing in Middle Earth alone, Arwen?"

Arwen did not answer immediately. Instead, she lifted her gaze toward the night sky, where the first stars had begun to emerge, glimmering faintly against the darkness. She seemed lost in thought, as if savoring a rare moment of solitude.

Then, after a pause, she finally spoke, amusement lacing her tone. "You sound just like my attendants in Edenvila. Always questioning my decisions, as if I am incapable of choosing my own path."

Alcard did not respond, knowing well enough that she was trying to deflect. He had learned, over the years, that silence could be just as effective as pressing for answers. And sure enough, after a brief moment, Arwen sighed softly and spoke again.

"I am… on a holiday, Alcard," she said, her voice carrying an air of lightheartedness. "Sometimes, life in Edenvila feels suffocating."

Alcard narrowed his eyes slightly. "A holiday?" He repeated the word, skepticism clear in his tone. He had not meant to sound rude, but the sheer absurdity of the claim made it impossible to hide his disbelief. "In a place like this? Middle Earth isn't exactly a travel destination."

Arwen chuckled softly, the sound delicate but tinged with irony. "You're right. It isn't. But out here, I can breathe. Away from the castle, away from the nobility who do nothing but scheme and manipulate one another."

Alcard stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge the sincerity of her words. There was no deception in her voice, no calculated attempt to mislead him. If anything, she seemed to genuinely enjoy the simplicity of the journey, despite the dangers that lurked beyond the safety of civilization.

Then, after another stretch of silence, Arwen spoke again, this time with a touch more weight in her tone. "You know, Alcard, politics is not just a game played by men. Women, even children, are caught in its web. They use whatever they have—their beauty, their wit, even their ruthlessness—to gain what they desire."

Alcard remained silent, but he listened intently. He had seen enough of the world to know that there was truth in her words. Politics was a battlefield, just like any other, but the weapons used were often far more insidious.

"In Edenvila," she continued, "every step, every decision, is riddled with intrigue. Few truly care about the people. Most are simply vying for more power."

At last, Alcard broke his silence, his voice steady but observant. "And you? Are you different from them?"

Arwen smiled faintly, but there was a shadow of something unspoken in her expression. "I try to be, Alcard. But sometimes, I wonder… am I really any different? Or am I simply playing the same game as them, without realizing it?"

A thoughtful hush fell over them. The only sounds were the steady beat of hooves against the dirt road and the whisper of the wind through the trees. Alcard didn't press further. He knew that there were some burdens people carried that could not be shared so easily.

Then, almost too softly, Arwen murmured, "Alcard, even though we've only just met, I feel like I can trust you. You're different from the nobles I've known. Perhaps because you don't care about how the world sees you."

Alcard merely shrugged, his gaze fixed ahead. "Trust is fragile in a place like Middle Earth. But my duty is only to ensure your safety, Arwen. Nothing more."

She nodded, accepting his response without argument. A small, almost imperceptible smile crossed her lips, though Alcard did not see it.

By now, the night had fully taken over, leaving only the pale glow of the moon and the distant twinkle of stars to guide them. Alcard steered his horse toward a narrow path that led deeper into the forest, searching for a suitable place to make camp. They needed shelter—somewhere hidden, away from both monsters and bandits.

As he rode forward, he found himself pondering—What was Arwen's true goal? Why had she chosen this journey, despite all its risks? But he knew that pushing too hard for answers would yield nothing. His task was not to unravel her secrets.

His task was to guard her life.

And so, they continued onward beneath the vast, silent sky—two travelers heading into the unknown, chasing destinies not yet written.

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