The first surprise of the journey was that riding sidesaddle was not nearly as ridiculous as I had expected it to be. The second was that Skydancer was so much fun I stopped caring about being right within the first ten minutes.
She moved beneath me with an effortless, floating stride that made the road seem smoother than it had any right to be. My balance adjusted naturally to every change in pace, turn, and gentle rise, while my hands held the reins with a confidence that bore absolutely no resemblance to the handful of mediocre trail rides I remembered from Earth. I had technically ridden horses before, but nothing in those experiences prepared me for what it felt like to ride an animal that responded to the smallest movement of my fingers or shift of my weight as though we shared a language I could speak fluently without remembering where I had learned it.
The lack of remembered lessons did nothing to make the skill feel less real. If anything, Skydancer made it harder to care about the contradiction because every time I gave her a little more rein, her stride lengthened with such immediate enthusiasm that delight overwhelmed analysis. By the fourth time she tried to persuade me into letting her run, I was beginning to suspect she knew perfectly well that I wanted to and was simply waiting for me to stop pretending otherwise.
“Do not even think about it,” Renee called from several yards behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder and found her watching with entirely too much confidence from atop her new chestnut mare. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“You have been looking down the road like you are considering a race.”
“I am appreciating the scenery.”
“You have not looked at the scenery once.”
Adrian rode on my other side, his enormous dark bay moving at an easy pace that barely seemed to register as exercise for him. He looked from Skydancer to the open road ahead before settling deeper into his saddle with an expression that told me immediately he had decided to make the situation worse.
“I would wager on the horse.”
I gave him a deeply offended look. “Against me?”
“You are attached to the horse.”
“That does not improve your answer.”
“It improves my odds.”
Skydancer tossed her head as though she agreed with him, which was treasonous after everything we had shared over the previous twenty minutes. I stroked one hand briefly along her neck before returning it to the reins, deciding that if she wanted to side with Adrian she could at least wait until he stopped carrying two pieces of my luggage.
The cart behind us had become increasingly difficult to ignore every time the road curved enough for me to see it. My belongings occupied enough space beneath the weather cover that I had developed the unpleasant suspicion Renee’s claims about reducing my luggage had been less triumphant than I originally imagined.
I looked back again and counted visible cases before turning toward her. “How many of those are mine?”
Renee did not bother pretending she misunderstood. “Do you want the honest answer?”
“No.”
“Then fewer than you think.”
“That is somehow worse.”
Adrian looked over his shoulder toward the cart with exaggerated concentration. “I believe one of them may contain the western half of your wardrobe.”
“The western half would require another mule.”
Renee’s laugh carried clearly over the rhythm of hooves, while Adrian turned toward me with an expression of genuine admiration that I immediately regretted earning. I lifted my chin and returned my attention to the road before either of them could use my accidental honesty against me.
Beyond the capital, the road remained broad and well maintained, carrying us past increasingly scattered houses until the city loosened into countryside. Stone walls gave way to hedgerows and open fields, clusters of trees broke the horizon, and the palace behind us became smaller each time I looked back. Eventually the road dipped, the land rose behind us, and when I turned again the towers were simply gone.
The absence caught harder than I expected. Nothing dramatic had marked the moment when the palace disappeared from view. There was only road behind us now, distant roofs, trees, and the faint rise of land we had already crossed, yet the hollow sensation beneath my ribs arrived with enough certainty that I could not dismiss it as nostalgia for somewhere I did not truly know.
Calder City was home.
I knew that without remembering every departure that should have made the word familiar. I knew the palace corridors, knew which rooms belonged to me, knew Mother’s embrace and Father’s irritation and Renee’s judgmental breathing. I knew Skydancer beneath me well enough that one shift in her gait registered instantly through my balance. None of those things came with the history I expected memories to provide, but the ache of leaving still belonged entirely to me.
Skydancer’s ears flicked backward when my posture changed, and I rested one hand against her neck without thinking. She settled beneath the touch as though reassuring me was simply another part of the relationship she had already decided we possessed.
Adrian noticed the movement, but to his credit he did not say anything about it. He adjusted one rein and let the quiet remain between us, while Renee rode close enough behind to stay part of the group without forcing conversation simply because silence existed.
Naturally, the System chose that moment to intrude.
A small gold icon appeared near the edge of my vision, unfamiliar enough that I focused on it before remembering I technically possessed the option of ignoring magical interface notifications. The icon expanded into a narrow panel marked with a stylized cluster of figures beneath a crown.
PARTY INTERFACE AVAILABLE
Active cooperative unit detected.
Party management functions unlocked.
I stared at the notice while Skydancer continued walking beneath me, apparently unconcerned that her rider had become partially distracted by an invisible menu. The fact that I could browse a magical interface from horseback without immediately steering into a ditch probably deserved recognition, though the System showed no interest in rewarding competence when embarrassment remained available.
“Of course there is a party menu.”
Renee glanced toward me. “Another System thing?”
“Yes.”
“Useful?”
“I have not decided whether useful and invasive are mutually exclusive.”
Adrian’s attention sharpened immediately. “I have one too.”
That made me focus more carefully. The panel opened farther and rearranged itself into something suspiciously familiar from years of games, except the names inside it belonged to people riding beside me rather than characters rendered safely on a screen.
ACTIVE PARTY
Party Leader: Radiance Ember Soulflame
Party Members: 2
Attached Personnel: 1
Animals: 4
Vehicles: 1
Party Name: Unassigned
A smile started before I could stop it.
Adrian noticed immediately. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Adrian looked at me. “You look far too pleased with yourself.”
“Your distrust wounds me.”
I ignored him and focused on Party Name: Unassigned, because obviously that was the most important problem the interface had presented. A prompt appeared almost immediately, proving that the System understood leadership priorities better than either of my traveling companions.
NAME YOUR PARTY
I sat a little straighter in the saddle and considered the matter with the seriousness it deserved. If the System was going to declare me party leader without consulting anyone else, the least I could do was respect the office by refusing to saddle us with something painfully boring.
Renee watched me for several moments before suspicion entered her expression. “You have gone quiet.”
“I am thinking.”
“That explains the expression.”
“I need a name.”
“For what?”
“Our party.”
Adrian exhaled audibly. “That sounds dangerous.”
“You have no faith in me.”
“I have known you long enough to understand that giving you naming authority is an act of tremendous faith.”
House Soulflame’s Western Expedition was the first possibility to occur to me, and I rejected it immediately because it sounded like something Father would stamp onto official paperwork. Radiance’s Company was better but lacked grandeur, while The Soulflame Expedition made us sound distressingly serious and gave Adrian entirely too much opportunity to remind me he was not actually a Soulflame.
The Royal Company of Crown Princess Radiance had potential, though it sounded more military than I wanted. Radiance’s Royal Entourage came closer, but Renee would probably object to being reduced to decorative background scenery and Adrian would become insufferable about being part of my entourage before we reached our first meal.
Royal Retinue of Princess Radiance lingered longer than the others. Something about the ridiculous grandeur scratched against an old reading memory from Earth, and while I refused to steal the exact joke my mind had offered, the spirit of it could survive perfectly well in its new environment.
I rearranged the words once more and submitted the final version. The System accepted it without complaint and added a completely unnecessary gold flourish that made the decision feel officially sanctioned.
PARTY NAME UPDATED
Princess Radiance’s Royal Retinue
I nodded with satisfaction while the title settled at the top of the interface. Adrian’s expression became increasingly wary as he watched whatever smugness had apparently appeared on my face.
“Perfect.”
“What did you do?”
“I named us.”
Renee closed her eyes briefly. “Of course you did.”
“Would either of you like to hear it?”
“No,” Adrian said.
“Yes,” Renee said at exactly the same time.
I smiled toward Adrian before returning my attention to the road. “Democracy has spoken.”
“You are party leader.”
“That makes democracy even more ceremonial.”
Renee laughed while I announced the name with the dignity it deserved. Adrian listened all the way through before looking at me with exactly the expression I had hoped to produce.
“Was there ever a version that did not include your name?”
“I am the party leader.”
“That did not answer my question.”
“It answered the relevant part.”
He shook his head, but the grin that followed ruined any attempt at genuine disapproval. “Princess Radiance’s Royal Retinue.”
“It has presence.”
“It has Radiance.”
“Exactly.”
I returned my attention to the menu before either of them could organize a rebellion. The new party name appeared at the top in unnecessarily ornate lettering, with my own entry directly beneath it and Adrian’s beside mine.
PRINCESS RADIANCE’S ROYAL RETINUE
Party Leader
Radiance Ember Soulflame Status: Healthy Conditions: None
Party Member
Prince Adrian of Valenne Stats: Healthy Conditions: None
Attached Personnel
Renee Merrowyn Classification: Hireling Status: Healthy Conditions: None
The word Hireling irritated me immediately. Renee herself seemed considerably less offended when I told her, which was probably because she was currently riding a very expensive horse provided by my father while drawing a salary from the Crown and therefore had considerably less room than I did to argue with the System on purely technical grounds.
“That is offensive.”
Renee glanced toward me. “What is?”
“You are apparently a hireling.”
“I am paid.”
“That is not the point.”
“I would argue it is central to the definition.”
“You are my lady-in-waiting.”
“For which I am paid.”
“You are also family.”
Something softened in her expression before she hid it beneath another look toward the road. Adrian politely became fascinated with the countryside at exactly the right moment, which made me suspect his social instincts were considerably better than some of the numbers attached to his authored character had ever suggested.
I focused on Renee’s entry, and a larger panel unfolded immediately. The amount of information available expanded far beyond the basic party display, reinforcing that the System considered my relationship with her mechanically different from my relationship with another Player.
RENEE MERROWYN
Classification: Attached Personnel / Hireling Role: Lady-in-Waiting Employer: Crown of Calder Assigned To: Crown Princess Radiance Soulflame
Salary Responsibility: Crown of Calder Current Party Cost: 0
Health: Healthy Conditions: None Fatigue: Low Morale: High
Recognized Relationship to Radiance
Relationship Type: Familial / Professional Affection: Very High Trust: Very High Loyalty: Exceptional
Relationship visibility available due to established familiarity, recognized household bond, and long-term service.
Additional Information: Partially Restricted
The joking fell away while I read the relationship section. None of it contradicted what Renee’s behavior had already told me, but seeing the System acknowledge it made the emotional reality harder to evade. She did not merely work for me because Father paid her. She loved me like family, trusted me deeply, and apparently possessed a degree of loyalty the System considered exceptional.
The part that caught hardest was how little remembered history I possessed to explain any of it. I could not summon years of conversations or private jokes, could not remember occasions when I had earned that trust, and yet nothing about her affection felt fraudulent when I looked at her. The System was not creating the relationship for my convenience. It was exposing something that had already existed between us long enough to qualify for mechanical recognition.
Renee noticed my silence and looked over with growing suspicion. “What does it say?”
I hesitated before choosing the least dangerous portion of the truth. “That Father pays you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That is what made you stare at me like that?”
“It also says your morale is high.”
“How reassuring.”
“You are delighted to be here.”
“I am riding a horse the King gave me while being paid to supervise you. Apparently the System understands me very well.”
I laughed and let the rest remain private. Reading Very High Affection aloud felt strangely invasive when Renee had never chosen to reduce her feelings to a System label for my convenience, and the explanation beneath the relationship entry made it clear that this was not information I could simply pull from every stranger who wandered near the party. Years of established familiarity had made the bond visible. Access still did not make it mine to announce.
Then I opened Adrian’s entry, and the difference was immediate enough to answer several questions before I could ask them.
PRINCE ADRIAN OF VALENNE
Classification: Party Member / Player Status: Healthy Conditions: None
Relationship to Radiance: Fiancé
Shared Information: Limited
Additional Personal Information: Restricted by Player Privacy Settings
I focused on the restriction and received a second panel almost immediately.
PLAYER PRIVACY
Detailed personal-state information is not automatically shared between Player Party Members.
Additional information may be shared voluntarily by the relevant Player or unlocked through applicable System conditions.
Equivalent privacy restrictions apply to information other Players can access about you.
Relief came quickly when I reached the final line. Adrian could apparently see enough to know whether I was injured, poisoned, cursed, or suffering some other condition relevant to keeping me alive, but he could not open a menu and inspect every private thing the System knew about me simply because we happened to be traveling together. More importantly, I could not do that to him either.
I looked toward him while keeping Skydancer at an easy pace beside his horse. “Can you see my health?”
“Yes.”
“Conditions?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
He went quiet for several moments, presumably reading his version of the interface. When he finally answered, amusement had already begun creeping back into his voice.
“Your name, that you are party leader, and that our relationship is listed as fiancée.”
I frowned at him before realizing what part of the wording had caught my attention. “Fiancée?”
“You are the woman.”
“I know what the word means.”
“Then I am pleased we resolved that.”
I pointed at him despite having reins in one hand, which made Skydancer flick an ear back as though judging my priorities. “The System understanding grammar is not a personal accomplishment.”
His smile widened while I focused on the menu again. Several deeper fields remained completely opaque when I tried to inspect them, confirming that whatever else the System knew about Adrian belonged to Adrian unless he deliberately chose to share it.
The arrangement felt unexpectedly fair. I could know enough to help keep another Player alive without receiving a magical shortcut into his emotions, secrets, history, or thoughts, and he had no greater access to mine. Considering how much information the System had already demonstrated it could collect, I found myself increasingly grateful that whoever had designed its privacy rules possessed at least one redeeming quality.
I closed Adrian’s panel and noticed another category waiting beneath the people in the party. Skydancer’s ears flicked backward at almost the exact moment I selected it, and the timing made me smile as the System expanded the section devoted to the other members of our traveling group.
ANIMALS & TRANSPORT
The animal section opened into a series of smaller profiles arranged beneath the party members, and Skydancer occupied the first position with enough decorative trim around her name to suggest the System understood exactly which animal considered herself most important. I focused on her entry while she continued down the road beneath me, and the panel expanded until several meters and classifications appeared beside a tiny stylized outline of a horse.
SKYDANCER
Classification: Personal Mount Assigned Rider: Radiance Ember Soulflame Ownership: Crown Princess Radiance Soulflame
Health: 100% Stamina: 96% Hunger: 8% Thirst: 6% Stress: 4% Happiness: 94%
Bond with Radiance: Exceptional
Primary Aptitudes: Speed / Agility / Responsiveness Load Capacity: Low Current Load: 7%
Condition: Excellent
I stared at Exceptional longer than I meant to. Skydancer flicked one ear backward as though she could somehow feel me reading about her, and the System’s confirmation landed with the same warmth her greeting in the courtyard had. Whatever memories I lacked, this mare had spent years learning me, trusted me completely, and apparently considered our bond exceptional without needing my permission to make the relationship complicated.
“Ninety-four percent happy,” I murmured, leaning forward slightly to scratch near the base of Skydancer’s mane. “What would it take to get the remaining six?”
Renee rode closer and glanced toward me. “Are you talking to the horse or the System?”
“Both. Apparently Skydancer is only ninety-four percent satisfied with my performance.”
“That seems generous.”
Skydancer tossed her head, and I looked toward Renee with immediate vindication. “She disagrees with you. The System also says our bond is exceptional, so I am clearly her favorite person.”
“Your horse being as spoiled as you are does not prove what you think it proves.”
Renee’s mare continued along without reacting to the exchange, which gave her rider an unfair advantage in maintaining dignity. I focused on Skydancer’s load information again and immediately understood why nobody had attached anything substantial to her. Seven percent apparently consisted mostly of me, the saddle, the modest saddlebags, and whatever small necessities had been considered worthy of touching the princess horse.
“She has low load capacity.”
Adrian glanced across at us while his own horse maintained the same steady pace. “You sound surprised.”
“I am learning important things.”
“You are riding a horse bred to move quickly while looking expensive. I thought you had already identified the concept.”
“That description applies to me too.”
Adrian’s expression brightened. “I was not going to say it.”
“You were absolutely going to say it.”
“I was going to think it respectfully.”
I decided Skydancer’s profile was safer company and moved to the next animal. Adrian’s horse appeared without the ornamental flourishes surrounding mine, but his statistics explained immediately why two pieces of my luggage had been assigned to him without anyone feeling the need to consult me.
ADRIAN’S MOUNT
Classification: Personal Mount Assigned Rider: Prince Adrian of Valenne
Health: 100% Stamina: 93% Hunger: 10% Thirst: 9% Stress: 3% Happiness: 87%
Primary Aptitudes: Endurance / Load Bearing / Combat Stability Load Capacity: Very High Current Load: 41%
Condition: Excellent
Relationship Data: Limited
I read the heading twice.
“Adrian’s Mount.”
Adrian glanced toward me. “Yes?”
“That is what the System calls him.”
His attention moved toward his horse. “Accurate.”
I waited several seconds for the rest of the answer. None arrived.
“What is his name?”
Adrian looked back at me with the expression of a man who had somehow failed to anticipate an extremely obvious trap. “My horse?”
“No, Adrian, the mule. Yes, your horse.”
“He does not particularly need a name.”
I stared at him.
Renee, several yards behind us, made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh.
Adrian’s posture changed by perhaps half an inch. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You have an enormous warhorse who carries you into danger, transports your equipment, tolerates my luggage, and apparently possesses better privacy settings than Renee, and you never named him?”
“He knows when I am speaking to him.”
“That was not the question.”
“He is a horse.”
Skydancer’s ears snapped backward.
I put a hand against her neck. “Ignore him. He is clearly emotionally deficient.”
Adrian looked down at his bay as though expecting support. The horse continued walking with the profound patience of an animal accustomed to carrying large burdens, some of which apparently had opinions.
“He has never objected.”
“He cannot file a complaint.”
“The System says his stress is three percent. I believe that qualifies as contentment.”
“His happiness is eighty-seven.”
“That seems respectable.”
“Skydancer is at ninety-four.”
“Skydancer is being actively praised while carrying almost nothing.”
“She has standards.”
“She has you.”
“That is why she is happy.”
Renee laughed behind us. “I believe you have lost control of this conversation, Your Highness.”
Adrian looked toward her. “I was under the impression there had once been control to lose.”
I focused on the nameless horse’s profile again with renewed disapproval. “This is unacceptable.”
“To whom?”
“Me.”
“That is not compelling.”
“You are a prince.”
“I am aware.”
“You cannot ride across two kingdoms on a horse whose official System designation is Adrian’s Mount.”
“I have managed so far.”
“Poorly.”
Adrian sighed, although the corner of his mouth had started betraying him. “Are you planning to name my horse for me?”
The possibility had not occurred to me until he offered it, which was his first serious tactical mistake.
“I can.”
“No.”
“You should have considered that before admitting he was defenseless.”
“He is a trained warhorse.”
“Against cavalry, perhaps. Not naming authority.”
Adrian immediately looked more concerned. “Radiance.”
I smiled at him.
“No.”
“I have not suggested anything yet.”
“That is why I am intervening early.”
Renee guided her mare a little closer, clearly unwilling to miss whatever happened next. “Perhaps Prince Adrian should be permitted to choose his own horse’s name.”
“Thank you,” Adrian said.
I looked at her. “You are supposed to support me.”
“I support outcomes that allow us to reach our destination without diplomatic incidents.”
“This is an animal-welfare issue.”
“It is not.”
The System, traitorously, offered no notification confirming either position. I looked from Adrian to the dark bay beneath him and considered several increasingly inappropriate possibilities before deciding that forcing a terrible name on the horse would punish the wrong participant.
“Fine. You have until tonight.”
Adrian blinked. “Until tonight for what?”
“To name him.”
“I did not agree to that.”
“You do not need to. I am party leader.”
“That is not one of your powers.”
“We do not know that.”
“It absolutely is not.”
I lifted my chin and focused on the road ahead. “Tonight.”
Renee’s mare became the safer subject, at least temporarily. I shifted my attention back to the interface before Adrian could attempt to renegotiate a deadline that had already been imposed with perfectly reasonable royal authority.
ROYAL STABLE MARE
Classification: Assigned Mount Assigned Rider: Renee Merrowyn Ownership: Royal Stables of Calder
Health: 100% Stamina: 95% Hunger: 9% Thirst: 8% Stress: 5% Happiness: 84%
Primary Aptitudes: Endurance / Temperament / Sure-Footedness Load Capacity: High Current Load: 18%
Condition: Excellent
Rider Bond: Developing
I glanced back at Renee and found her leaning down to stroke the chestnut’s neck while they rode. The mare flicked an ear toward the touch without breaking stride, and something about the small response made the developing bond feel considerably more interesting than the percentage attached to it. Father had only assigned them to one another a few hours ago. The System apparently understood the difference between being given responsibility for an animal and actually earning its affection.
“Your horse likes you.”
Renee gave me a suspicious look. “I would hope so.”
“Eighty-four percent.”
“Is that good?”
“Better than Adrian’s.”
Adrian looked offended on behalf of his horse. “Mine is carrying your luggage.”
“That remains unrelated.”
Renee stroked her mare again, smiling when another ear turned toward her. “What else does it say?”
“Healthy, calm, good endurance, high carrying capacity, and your bond is developing. Father apparently gave you the sensible horse.”
“He generally expects me to be the sensible one.”
“That seems unfair to me.”
“It is exhausting for both of us.”
I focused on the fourth animal while Renee was still smiling. The mule trundled steadily behind us with the patient resignation of something whose ancestors had spent centuries carrying other people’s questionable decisions, and its profile appeared alongside a second tab connected to the cart.
ROYAL STABLE MULE
Classification: Draft Animal Assignment: Expedition Support
Health: 100% Stamina: 94% Hunger: 11% Thirst: 10% Stress: 7% Happiness: 78%
Primary Aptitudes: Endurance / Draft Work / Load Bearing Current Draft Load: 63%
Condition: Excellent
The happiness meter bothered me more than I expected. Seventy-eight percent was hardly suffering, and every other indicator said the animal was healthy and comfortable, but knowing that Skydancer was sitting at ninety-four while the mule hauling most of our lives managed seventy-eight made me look back at it with considerably more sympathy.
“Do mules like apples?”
Renee blinked. “Yes.”
“Good.”
Adrian looked over. “Are you bribing the mule?”
“I am improving party morale.”
“You have been party leader for less than an hour.”
“And already morale is a priority.”
“Only after you saw a number.”
“Leadership benefits from measurable outcomes.”
Renee laughed. “You have never cared about measurable outcomes involving livestock before.”
“Apparently mule morale is part of my royal portfolio now.”
Adrian’s mouth twitched as if he had been about to say something, thought better of it, and wisely returned his attention to the road. I opened the cart profile before either of them could discover another way to make the mule my fault.
EXPEDITION CART
Classification: Light Utility Vehicle Condition: Excellent Load: 63% of Recommended Maximum
Cargo Distribution
Expedition Provisions: 29% Shared Equipment: 16% Medical / Emergency Supplies: 8% Renee Merrowyn Personal Effects: 6% Prince Adrian Personal Effects: 4% Radiance Ember Soulflame Personal Effects: 37%
I read the final line twice because the System had clearly made a mathematical mistake. Thirty-seven percent of the entire cart being exclusively mine sounded impossible after Renee had spent half the day behaving like a textile executioner.
“That is slander.”
Renee’s expression brightened immediately. “What did you discover?”
“The System has made an accounting error.”
Adrian turned enough in his saddle to look back toward the cart. “Does the error involve the mule?”
“It does not involve you.”
“That means yes.”
I focused harder on the distribution as though concentration might force the numbers to rearrange themselves into something less offensive. Nothing moved, although a small information icon appeared beside my personal-effects total with all the cheerful malice of something inviting me to make the situation worse.
I opened it anyway.
PERSONAL EFFECTS INCLUDE
Clothing Footwear Cosmetics Personal Grooming Supplies Jewelry / Accessories Comfort Items Nonessential Personal Equipment
Shared expedition resources are not included in individual cargo attribution.
“That classification is aggressively judgmental.”
Renee was smiling openly now. “How much is yours?”
“I do not believe percentages are meaningful without context.”
“How much, Rae?”
I considered refusing on principle, but the answer was already hovering accusingly in front of my face. “Thirty-seven.”
Adrian coughed into one hand before looking away. “Thirty-seven percent of your luggage?”
“Of the cart.”
His shoulders moved once.
I pointed at him. “You are laughing.”
“I am riding.”
“You can do both.”
“That is precisely what I am attempting.”
Renee abandoned discipline entirely and laughed without bothering to hide it. I looked toward the cart again and tried to take comfort in the fact that my belongings still occupied less than half of it, but the combined personal effects of the other two humans barely reached a third of mine.
“I still packed lightly by royal standards.”
“Whose royal standards?” Adrian asked. “Yours?”
“The relevant ones.”
A bright chime sounded before he could answer, and a new notification appeared directly over the cargo breakdown. The ornate framing around it was enough to tell me the System had been waiting for precisely this moment.
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED
ROYAL BAGGAGE
Begin an expedition while transporting more personal effects than all other active Party Members and Attached Personnel combined.
Bonus Condition Achieved: Dedicated draft animal and vehicle required.
Bonus Condition Achieved: Additional baggage distributed to another Party Member’s mount.
Rewards:
Minor Traveler Cache Reluctant Crown Princess Progression 1 Unknown Reward
CLAIM STATUS: UNAVAILABLE
System-delivered rewards may be claimed only within a recognized Safe Area.
I stared at the achievement while Adrian and Renee continued discussing my alleged relationship with luggage as though I were not present. The System had itemized every offense, awarded bonuses for logistical excess, and then withheld the actual prize until I found another Safe Area.
“I hate this thing.”
Adrian looked toward me. “The cart?”
“The System.”
“That sounds more serious.”
“I received an achievement.”
Renee immediately became interested. “For what?”
“Leadership.”
A small line appeared beneath the achievement before I could dismiss it.
CORRECTION: BAGGAGE
I closed the window so quickly that Skydancer flicked both ears backward at me.
“It is becoming vindictive.”
“What was it actually for?” Adrian asked.
The grin on his face made it obvious he already had a theory and intended to keep asking until I confirmed it. I lifted my chin and gave Skydancer a tiny cue forward, putting several additional feet between us before answering.
“My commitment to maintaining appropriate standards during travel.”
Renee laughed again while Adrian called after me that he wanted the exact achievement name later. I ignored both of them and reopened the animal menu, mostly because checking the mule’s happiness felt considerably more dignified than continuing the conversation.
The welfare meters changed gradually as we traveled. Skydancer’s stamina slipped another point while her stress remained almost nonexistent, Renee’s mare stayed calm, Adrian’s horse seemed insultingly unaffected by both his rider and my luggage, and the mule’s stress remained low enough that the guilty part of me finally stopped imagining I had sentenced it to misery beneath thirty-seven percent of my portable existence.
A help icon beside the animal section explained that party members could monitor health, fatigue, hunger, thirst, stress, injury, and dangerous conditions for animals attached to the group. More detailed information depended on ownership, direct responsibility, familiarity, or deliberate sharing. The distinctions matched what I had already seen between Skydancer, whose bond with me was laid almost completely open, and Adrian’s horse, whose relationship information remained mostly none of my business.
The feature was useful enough that I grudgingly forgave the System for several seconds. If Skydancer developed an injury, Renee’s mare became dangerously exhausted, or the mule started struggling under the cart, we would know before ordinary observation necessarily made the problem obvious. It was exactly the sort of information that could keep an animal from being pushed past a safe limit during a long expedition, which meant I was going to have to tolerate the possibility that the same interface capable of humiliating me over luggage might occasionally be helpful.
I gave Skydancer a little more rein once the road opened again. She responded instantly, lengthening her stride until the air moved more strongly against my face and the edges of my traveling coat fluttered around the skirts beneath it. I let her have several glorious seconds before Renee’s voice carried after me.
“Rae.”
“I am not racing.”
“You are getting farther away.”
“That is what happens when one horse is faster.”
Adrian’s bay increased his pace with infuriating ease until he drew alongside me again. “Apparently not the only horse.”
I looked at the enormous animal and then at Adrian. “You are ruining Skydancer’s moment.”
“I believe she will recover.”
Skydancer tossed her head and edged half a step ahead.
I smiled. “She disagrees.”
The city had long since disappeared behind us, and the countryside settled into the gentler rhythm of farms, hedgerows, orchards, and occasional clusters of houses along the road. People noticed us well before we reached them. Skydancer’s tack carried the Soulflame crest prominently enough to announce royal ownership, but I suspected the pale woman with crownlike horns, opalescent hair, and a tail riding sidesaddle beside a Valennian prince would have defeated anonymity without assistance.
Some bowed from the roadside when recognition arrived. Others stared first and remembered manners afterward. I returned greetings when they were offered, sometimes lifting a hand and sometimes simply inclining my head when doing more would have required releasing the reins. A farmer standing beside a wagon removed his hat as we passed, two children near a low stone wall stared openly at my horns until their mother hurried them into awkward bows, and an elderly woman outside a cottage smiled at me with such uncomplicated warmth that I found myself smiling back before thinking about whether a Crown Princess was supposed to do something more formal.
Nobody threw vegetables, which I decided counted as promising public confidence.
Adrian did not force conversation every time the road became quiet, and Renee seemed content to let her new mare settle into the journey. The silence gave me room to enjoy riding instead of treating every mile as something to endure between important events. Skydancer had stopped testing whether I would let her run every thirty seconds, though I suspected that represented strategic patience rather than surrender, and every now and then I scratched the base of her mane just to watch her happiness meter creep upward.
“Ninety-five.”
Adrian glanced over. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You said a number.”
“Skydancer and I are making progress.”
His gaze dropped toward the mare. “Her happiness?”
“Yes.”
“You are trying to maximize your horse.”
“I am making her happy.”
“You are watching a number increase.”
“Those things are not mutually exclusive.”
“What happens at one hundred?”
“I intend to find out.”
Renee shook her head from behind us. “That horse is going to be unbearable by the end of the week.”
“She deserves enrichment.”
“She lives in the royal stables.”
“Exactly. She has standards to maintain.”
We continued west while the afternoon softened around us, and after a while scattered houses began appearing more frequently ahead. They gathered into streets and warm stone buildings as the road descended toward a town, tiled roofs spreading outward beneath thin trails of chimney smoke. Beyond the nearer rooftops, on higher ground overlooking the settlement, pale stone walls and a dark tiled roof emerged among stands of cypress and flowering trees.
The name surfaced as soon as I saw it. Kallithea. I knew it was one of the larger towns within an easy journey of Calder City, prosperous enough to serve travelers moving along the western road and important enough that House Soulflame maintained a country residence overlooking it. The knowledge arrived cleanly without supplying a single remembered visit, another piece of my life that felt familiar without giving me the history that should have explained why.
Renee followed my gaze and shifted comfortably in her saddle. “The Royal Villa at Kallithea. We should reach it well before evening.”
I looked toward the residence again, and relief arrived with embarrassing speed. There would be walls, a bed, proper stables for the animals, and almost certainly indoor plumbing. After the events of the day, the prospect of a private bathroom had acquired an importance I had no intention of explaining to either of my traveling companions.
“Excellent.”
Adrian glanced toward me. “Already tired of the road?”
“Not at all. I am delighted to discover that civilization has survived two hours beyond Calder City.”
“We have been traveling through settled farmland.”
“Civilization has levels.”
Renee laughed. “And this one has a bed.”
“Now you understand me.”
Skydancer continued easily beneath me as the road descended toward Kallithea. The town spread outward below the Royal Villa in warm stone and tiled roofs, while the residence itself remained visible above the trees on the higher ground beyond. I gave Skydancer’s neck another affectionate stroke as we rode toward it, already wondering whether reaching ninety-six percent happiness before the stables counted as a reasonable goal.