"No further than that!" Rochelle shouted as she hopped out of the carriage and into the soft, untouched snow.
The woman completely disregarded the fact that she wasn’t wearing clothing made for running through the snow. She held her skirts and sprinted forward as fast as her untrained body could take her.
Her legs were going to be soaked, but she was paying them no mind.
That morning, she followed her husband to the edge of their lands, forcing the driver who held the reins to stay at a distance so he wouldn’t see them right away.
However, an adept knight like Sir Arthur wasn’t so mindless or unaware of his surroundings to not notice a carriage slowly going in the same direction as him. After all, it was the very carriage he had built for his wife when they found that she was pregnant with their first child.
The very child who was facing war while he was living a comfortable existence as a spoiled lord who had little care other than what he could see from his home. He felt useless. Positively useless.
Yet each letter he received from the front lines was full of pleas for him to stay back and protect his region of the duchy. He was right where he needed to be. Since they received help from the Knights of Hydrogia and Royal Knights, his presence wasn’t needed. Official source is NoveI~Fire.net
What Arthur didn’t know was that a separate letter had been sent to Lady Rochelle telling her of her husband’s responses, threatening to leave if he sensed even the slightest bit of danger. She needed to keep her eyes on the man. They had everything taken care of. He would be most helpful slashing down the stray goblins or wolves that dared to venture north in search of a place away from the battlefield.
Arthur had his own eyes on the front lines. There were knights who served him like some sort of commander, despite them still being very much part of the Knights of Chemois.
Knights of Chemois, he mused. How very fitting.
The knighthood that was most ignored by the King, despite all they had done and the sacrifices they had made. It was a damn shame they decided to take this political stance while he was no longer an active knight outside of anything besides his own lands.
All he could do was wander to the edge, even in the snow, and gaze towards the mountains. He couldn’t see finer details, of course, but he could see the highest peak, which was the backdrop of the Duke’s Tower.
Each time he stared in that direction, the thrill of battle raced through his veins. The urge to leave it all behind was too tempting. Was his daughter suffering? There hadn’t been a response to any of the letters he had sent to her.
However, the letters were added to each wagon full of provisions. They could have easily gotten misplaced.
Yet he wouldn’t be a father if he didn’t worry about what his growing daughter was experiencing on the front lines, where there were undoubtedly losses—the number undetermined because they wouldn’t give him specific details.
Arthur leaned heavily into the left stirrup so he could lean down and grab the woman who was insistent on doing all she could to keep him in central Chemois.
"I was merely looking in that direction," he muttered once she was sitting on his lap. "Do you think I would make it far with only a cloak and no saddlebags?"
He pulled the cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around his wife instead, making sure she was covered all the way up to her chin. He then waved towards the coachman who drove the carriage, saying that the man could go and be relieved of his work until Rochelle called once more.
Arthur had relieved all the knights in his area. Their efforts were more important at the front lines.
"Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try," Rochelle quietly argued, but she soon leaned into her husband, who kept his right arm around her as he stabilized himself on top of his horse and pulled the reins with his left hand so that the horse would go in the direction he was requesting.
"Aren’t you worried?" Arthur asked. "I can hardly sleep."
"What sort of mother would I be to not lose sleep over my hidden daughter in a sea of boys and men while they face monsters?" she wondered. "How safe is her secret, Art?"
That was always at the back of her thoughts. Who would feel betrayed if she were to be revealed? Who would attack her if they knew?
Considering all of the rough stories she heard from her husband’s time as a knight that exceeded their relationship, she was a bit mistrustful of knights when it came to certain settings. They were always acceptable in front of women, but when it was just men, they were as expected.
Was that the sort of environment her daughter was subjected to?
But that wasn’t the true reason she chased down her husband.
"Just after you left, she finally responded," Rochelle admitted with a small smile on her face, looking so much like the daughter who was left facing battle in the Duke’s Tower.
The woman’s gloved hand appeared from the folds of the cloak she was buried inside. Out came a rolled-up letter that was definitely worse for wear.
"You should have said something before!" he exclaimed.
"Let’s read it once we’re back in the warmth," Rochelle insisted. "My hands won’t ."
Despite everything, the knight smiled down at his wife. He was the one not wearing an outer layer now. His ears and nose were turning as red as the hair on his head, yet he wouldn’t complain about the cold.
He surely hoped that Irene hadn’t gotten her mother’s lack of resistance to the cold. The girl never complained about it before, but she never complained about much of anything.
Irene’s desire to be strong made her unbelievably tolerant.
He wanted to be relied on by his daughter, who refused to rely on anyone, even when she was at the lowest points of her life.