The world was already warm when Aarav opened his eyes.

  The sort that can never seem to seep in deeply enough to banish the morning cold. Aarav blinks awake to it, to light already filtering through the leaves above, sun well past its first stretch across the sky. Too late for comfort. Too early to feel rested.

  His body complains immediately. Back twisted wrong on uneven ground. Legs stiff, joints sulking. His head feels stuffed with half-burnt dreams that hang on longer than they should, like smoke that refuses to clear even after the fire is out. He exhales, slow and deliberate, then pushes himself upright. He has slept in worse places. Much worse. He reminds himself of that, because it helps. A little.

  Seren is still awake. Aarav took most of the night's watch to make sure Seren got as much sleep as she could. Eventually, in the early hours he finally admitted to himself she was right, he couldn’t keep them safe without sleep. He woke her up and got what rest he could.

  She sits a short distance away, cloak pulled tight around her shoulders despite the rising heat, posture too neat to be natural. Upright. Held. Like rest was a luxury she had decided she could not afford. Strands of dark hair cling neatly to her cheek and temple, as if she hadn’t spent the night sleeping on the ground outside.

  She turns as he looks. Catches him looking at her like she could feel his gaze. The shadows beneath her eyes are deep enough that no amount of composure can quite hide them.

  But still sharp, even now. Stars, she must be exhausted. For half a heartbeat he thinks she is about to say something, some precise correction or careful question, but instead she reaches out and offers him an apple. Her hand is steady enough, but there is a slight tremble.

  “Good morning,” he says, voice rough, brushing leaves from his sleeves as he stands.

  “Is it?”

  The words are even, measured, but the strain leaks through anyway.

  He takes the apple and bites into it without ceremony. Soft from the night air. A little bruised but still sweet. He chews and lets his gaze drift across the place where they slept, the way the trees fold in close, the undergrowth doing its quiet work of hiding them. For one night at least, it was enough.

  “They will probably be searching outside the walls already,” he says around another bite, voice flat with hunger and the tail end of sleep. “We can’t stay here and if we keep away from the main roads, we should be safe. My guess is they will mostly sit on the main routes out and wait. Crossings, bridges, anywhere people are forced to slip through.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Seren nods once. Sharp. Decisive. “Then we go south. Find a road and reach Solmaris as quickly as possible.”

  Aarav finishes the apple before he answers. Chews, swallows, then flicks the core into the brush. He wipes his hands on his trousers and starts gathering their things with an unhurried care that is almost deliberate.

  “Aarav?”

  “I heard you,” he says, still packing. “And I don’t agree.”

  She rises to her feet, cloak settling around her shoulders. “We do not have the luxury of disagreement. They are hunting us. If we linger.”

  “They will catch us if we run straight into their arms.” His voice stays calm, level.

  Her eyes narrow, clearly irritated. “You think they know I am heading to Solmaris?”

  “They do not need to,” Aarav says. “If I were them, I would have men on every main route out of Marrow. South road most of all. You walk it and you may as well announce yourself.”

  Her arms fold tight across her chest. “Then what. You plan to wander until the apples run out and we collapse in a ditch somewhere.”

  “No.” He swings the satchel over one shoulder and straightens. “We go west. There is a track that runs to Dunlow. We can make it by nightfall. From there, we turn south under cover. Quieter roads. Less attention.”

  Her brow tightens. “Why Dunlow.”

  “Because it lets us disappear,” Aarav says. “Busy enough that no one looks twice. We can reach it on herders’ tracks and meadow paths instead of the roads everyone is watching.”

  Her jaw works, tension sitting heavy there. “It is still a delay.”

  “It is survival.” His tone softens, just slightly, but his gaze does not give ground. “Fear is fine. Fear keeps you breathing. But if you move on fear alone, you run straight into a trap.”

  “I am not afraid,” Seren snaps, chin lifting.

  “I will take your word for it,” Aarav replies, dry but not unkind. “Fear or not, going straight south is still the wrong move.”

  They stand there a moment longer, the trees holding their breath around them. Morning warmth presses in now, thicker, heavier, the sort that promises a brutal afternoon. Somewhere in the distance birds are singing their morning songs.

  “I do not like this,” Seren says at last. “But you are right. Damn it!”

  It is not surrender. He hears that immediately. It is a concession, careful and controlled, the smallest coin of trust slid across the table. Aarav nods once, accepting it for what it is. Another step. Slow, but real.

  “Come on, I will take the lead,” he says. “The path runs west of here.”

  The trail starts as little more than a deer track, narrow and half-lost beneath weeds and crushed stems, but it bends west all the same. By the time the trees begin to thin, the sun has climbed high enough to warm the air properly, bringing with it the smell of earth, crushed grass, wildflowers bruised underfoot. The land opens into rolling fields and low hills, green cut with gold beneath a wide, empty sky. No road. Just flattened grasses where animals have gone before, creating natural paths through the land.