For a few minutes, Edmond did not move.
He sat there on his horse, staring toward the sea as though something in the distance had frozen him in place. His jaw tightened slowly, the kind of tension that builds without noise. One hand curled into a fist around the reins, knuckles paling, the leather creaking softly under the pressure.
It was a strange feeling. Unfamiliar. For the first time in his life, he was not happy to see Robert.
The sound of the trumpet carried over the water again, long and commanding, refusing to be ignored. It echoed against the cliffs and rolled across the Northern shore like a reminder that whatever Edmond felt did not matter. The king was here.
After a while, Edmond forced himself to breathe. Then he moved. He turned his horse and rode down toward the shore, each step measured, controlled, as if he were holding something inside that might spill if he moved too quickly. Behind him, the Northern army stood in formation, silent and still. Lords, warriors, banners, all of them waiting.
Watching.
The royal ship cut through the water with slow authority before finally settling at the shore. Ropes were thrown. Wood scraped against sand. Then the guards came first, pouring out in practiced precision, forming a path as if the ground itself had to be prepared before the king's feet touched it.
And then Robert appeared. He stepped down with ease, a wide smile already on his face, stretching his arms slightly as though greeting an old friend rather than stepping into something tense and unspoken.
"The North is always a beautiful place to be," he said, his voice light, almost playful. But the moment lingered. Because no one smiled back.
The Northern Lords stood with faces drawn and heavy, their silence thick enough to feel. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Robert paused. The smile didn't disappear completely, but it shifted, just a little.
"Why are your faces like this?" he asked, glancing from one man to another. "Am I not welcome here?"
Edmond moved before anyone else could. He dropped to his knees. "Your Grace," he said, his voice steady but low, "the North belongs to you. You will always be welcome here."
Robert looked at him for a second, then stepped closer and reached down, offering his hand.
"Get up," he said, almost casually. "We have a wedding to plan."
The word landed harder than it should have.
Wedding.
It hit Edmond like something physical. His body reacted before his mind could catch up. His shoulders stiffened, his breath caught for just a fraction of a second, but he said nothing.
He took the king's hand, and he stood. Without another word, he turned and followed as Robert walked toward the castle, the guards falling in around them. The movement resumed, the world continuing as if nothing had shifted, but something had.
Inside, Robert did not waste time. "Bring me Maria," he said. "I have to talk to her personally."
That was when Edmond froze again. It was smaller this time. Quieter. But it was there. "Yo…ur Gra…ce," he started, the words catching in his throat despite himself.
Robert stopped walking. Slowly, he turned. Something in Edmond's voice had cut through whatever ease he had carried into the North. His expression sharpened, the warmth fading just enough to reveal something colder underneath.
"What has happened again?" he asked.
Edmond dropped to his knees. "Maria escaped an hour ago."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then Robert's body tensed, like a storm gathering too quickly to be controlled. "How did that happen?" he thundered, the force of his voice filling the hall.
Edmond lowered his gaze. "Her maiden warriors rescued her. It is my fault, i should have arrested all of them."
Robert turned away sharply, his fist clenching at his side. "If the wedding doesn't happen tomorrow," he said, his voice tightening with each word, "my name will be dragged into shame."
Edmond swallowed. "I am sorry, Your Grace. I take all the blame." He pushed himself up, forcing strength back into his voice. "Allow me to send ravens to all the kingdoms. We can have her ship stopped on sight."
Robert nodded once, short and controlled. "Do whatever you must," he said. Then, after a pause that felt heavier than it should have been, he added, "She might be in danger. If my enemies get to her first, they won't keep her alive."
That thought lingered.
Not long after, ravens were sent across the six kingdoms loyal to Robert, messages carrying urgency and command. Orders to search. To stop any ship that matched the description. To bring her back, by force, if necessary.
But the sea gave nothing away. Maria's ship remained unseen. Far into the waters, where the land had long disappeared behind them, Maria sat quietly, her eyes fixed on the endless stretch of blue. The wind brushed against her face, tugging at her hair, but she barely noticed.
She looked calm. Too calm.
Evelyn approached slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch light, almost hesitant.
"You are playing a dangerous gamble," she said softly.
Maria turned to look at her. "I know."
Evelyn swallowed, her fingers tightening slightly before she let them fall.
"We are enemies now," she continued, her voice lower. "Not just here, everywhere. The seven kingdoms under Robert will not forgive this. And if Drexo does not stand for you." She paused, the rest of the words sitting heavily between them. "Then we have nowhere left in Astarous."
Maria didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze past Evelyn, toward the others.
The girls. Young. Brave. Standing or sitting in small groups across the ship, trying to act stronger than they felt. They had followed her without hesitation. Risked everything without asking what would come after.
Evelyn watched them too. "If Drexo doesn't speak for you," she said quietly, "then you have dragged all of us to our early grave."
The words didn't need force. They sank in anyway. For a brief second, Maria saw it, not the sea, not the sky, but something darker. The image came uninvited. The girls, lined up. Bound. Waiting. The weight of a choice that could not be undone.
Her chest tightened. "I guess." she started, her voice softer now, "I have made a mistake."
Evelyn forced a small smile. Not because she believed it, but because there was nothing else to offer.
"There is no need regretting it now," she said. "We can't go back." She glanced at the horizon, where the sky met the sea in a thin, distant line.
"We just have to keep moving forward." And the ship did exactly that. It didn't slow. It didn't turn.
It simply carried them deeper into whatever waited ahead.