The convoy had been on the road for hours.
The air grew colder as they climbed into higher terrain, the forest thickening on either side. Moss-covered rocks dotted the ground like scattered teeth, and mist began to settle low across the roots of gnarled trees. The path was narrowing, more winding than before, but the carriages pressed on without delay.
Noel rested his chin against his knuckles, watching the canopy pass overhead through the small carriage window. It was a strange feeling, leaving the Thorne estate not for school, but for something entirely new. Different from the scripted life of the academy.
Here, the stage was wilder. Less predictable.
'This is where it begins. The next scenario.'
'The Beast Hunt.'
In the novel, it had been a tense arc filled with alliances, betrayals, and quiet power plays between noble houses. Elena von Lestaria's house had secured victory, and Marcus had risen in status by placing second with Clara's support.
And now?
