The Road to Rain

"My lady, your bags are on the carriage," Emily said softly, her voice barely louder than the morning breeze.

It would only take three days to reach the capital.Three days of silence.Three days of pretending everything was fine.

I stepped toward the carriage, pausing just once to glance back.Julian wasn't there.

I suppose we were still fighting.Or maybe… we were just tired of trying.

"Emily," I whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace, "take care."

She clung to me, her small hands trembling. "What are you saying, my lady? You'll be back, right?"

I smiled for her sake. "Of course."

But as I turned away, something deep inside me whispered otherwise.

The carriage door creaked as I climbed in, alone. I'd requested to travel without maids or butlers, no entourage, no eyes watching. Just one knight to escort me. Officially, it was for discretion. Truthfully… I just didn't want anyone to see me like this.

The knight rode beside the carriage, his armor freshly polished, his posture rigid. He looked young—too young—and the slight scowl on his face told me he resented this assignment. Escorting a noble girl wasn't the kind of duty that brought honor. Or excitement.

The first day passed in silence. Outside, the countryside stretched endlessly—golden fields, distant hills, and a sky that felt too wide, too quiet. Still, something prickled at the back of my neck—a vague sensation, like eyes pressing against my skin.

I told myself it was nothing.Just nerves.But by the second day, the feeling had sunk deeper into my chest, my gut. Like a warning I didn't yet understand.

That evening, as the light began to fade, I leaned toward the window. "Sir Knight," I said, "do you have an extra pair of knives?"

He blinked, surprised. "I do… but why would you need one, my lady?"

"I'd just like to borrow one. For a while."

A long pause followed. I could see the conflict in his eyes—training versus instinct. What kind of knight hands a blade to a girl barely old enough for court?

Still, without a word, he reached into his saddlebag and passed me a small dagger.

"Thank you," I murmured, tucking it into my sleeve.

We rode on through the night. A quiet inn waited for us just a few miles ahead. I should have felt relieved.

Instead, I was on edge—exhausted, but wide awake.

"Sir," I asked softly, "are we almost there?"

"Almost," he replied.

That was the last peaceful moment I had.

The carriage jerked to a sudden stop.

Then came the screams.

Shouts. Steel clashing. Horses were whinnying in terror.

I flung open the window. Shadows swarmed around us—masked men, blades drawn. My knight was already down, blood soaking into the dirt as he fought to rise.

I drew the dagger, my hands trembling.

I'd never killed anyone.Never imagined I would.

But I wanted to live.

The door burst open.

A man entered, mask over his face, sword gleaming. I lunged. The dagger sank into his thigh. He roared in pain and staggered back. I slipped past him, running into the woods.

Branches slashed at my arms, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

Then—hands.

Someone grabbed me from the dark.

I opened my mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over my lips. A boy, no older than me, with wild crimson hair and sharp amber eyes, stared into mine.

"Shh," he whispered.

I froze.

He took my hand and pulled me behind him. We darted through the trees until he stopped beneath a thick old oak. He pointed up.

Climb.

I climbed. He stayed below.

Moments passed.

Then a scream—raw, terrified. And then... silence.

I began to descend.And then—

A hand grabbed my arm. I screamed.

The masked man stood below, his face bloodied, eyes full of rage.

His sword rose.

And then he fell.

Behind him stood the boy, blood smeared on his cheek, sword trembling in his small hand. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to.

He'd saved me.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, voice flat but careful.

I shook my head. "No… Are you?"

"No."

He turned to walk away, then paused.

"Wait," I said. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer at first. Then:"You don't need to know."

Rain began to fall, soft at first, then gradually increasing in intensity.

"Follow me," he said, reaching out his hand.

I didn't protest.I followed.

We trudged through the rain-soaked forest until a small cottage came into view, nestled among the trees. He knocked twice. The door opened, revealing an elderly woman with silver hair and warm eyes.

"Oh, dear! You poor things," she gasped. "Come in—you're soaked to the bone!"

She handed us towels and ushered us toward the hearth. "Such sweet children," she said, smiling. "You remind me of my husband and I, long ago."

Only then did I realize—we were still holding hands.

Lucien let go and stepped back.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said. "May I use your restroom?"

"Of course, dear," she said, pointing down the hall.

I turned to her. "Do you have any spare clothes, Mrs…?"

"Just call me Agnes," she said, disappearing into another room.

I sat by the fire, heart still pounding. Who was he? Why had he helped me?

He returned quietly, rubbing a towel through his hair. We didn't speak.

"Thank you," I said finally. "For saving me."

He didn't look at me. His eyes stayed fixed on the fire. Silent.

Agnes returned, carrying two bundles of clothes. "Here you go, darlings. Change before you catch a chill."

We reached for the clothes at the same time. Our fingers brushed.

Later, after we'd changed, Agnes served us a warm meal. The smell of stew filled the room.

"So, what are your names?" she asked cheerfully as we sat at the table.

"My name is Lily," I said, glancing at the boy beside me.

He hesitated.

"Lucien," he said at last.

Agnes smiled. "And what are you two doing out so late?"

Lucien answered first. "We're just… lost, Mrs."

"Is that so?" she said kindly, clearly unconvinced. "Well, let's eat."

After dinner, she led us to a small guest room. "I only have one bed," she apologized, placing an extra blanket on the floor.

"I'll take the floor," Lucien said without hesitation.

"Okay," I murmured, too tired to argue.

As I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, I realized just how strange this night had become.

Strange.And somehow… important.