Inside the Carriage
"You said your name was Samira?"
Eleanor was sitting next to Reynard, the soft lavender scent emanating from her body entering his nostrils.
Reynard carried 'Samira' inside with Eleanor's help. Fortunately, her body wasn't heavy. Even with her armor, it wasn't a problem four hands couldn't solve.
"Y-yes... My name is Samira, young noble..." Sylvia replied, maintaining caution regarding the question.
Now that she was inside, she felt strange.
It had been too easy. He readily agreed to help her, without any suspicion. She had expected some resistance, but there was none. Her intuition, as someone who worked for the cult, told her there was something wrong with this person.
She couldn't quite name what it was, and that only amplified her sense of alert.
Perhaps she was overthinking it?
Meanwhile, outside, the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves and the constant creak of the wheels on the dirt road were the only sounds invading the environment. Occasionally, a thrown stone would hit the carriage's wooden floor, reminding them of the outside world.
At this moment, 'Samira' was leaning against the wall, her body half-limp as if all her bones had been extracted.
Eleanor had suggested cleaning her wounds right there, which she promptly refused. To clean her wounds, she would have to remove her clothes. Eleanor wasn't the issue, but...
Her gaze fell on Reynard.
No.
She wasn't doing that here.
Due to this, a metallic scent mixed with earth subtly permeated the environment, blending with Eleanor's perfume.
It was a little strange.
"Don't call me young noble. Reynard is enough." Reynard waved his hand dismissively, but the subsequent smile was so artificially wide that it stretched the skin of his face.
Any wider, and that smile would pop off.
Eleanor, sitting beside him, said nothing. Her eyes, however, made a subtle corner movement, tracing the forced curve of Reynard's lips.
Despite not knowing why he was acting, she didn't have to think hard to understand what he was doing.
Reynard leaned slightly forward, oblivious to Eleanor's thoughts. "You were in a terrible state... What happened to you?"
The voice that escaped his throat was filled with exaggerated concern, sprinkled with a calculated tone of fear. He was really putting in an effort.
"..." Eleanor.
"I was attacked by bandits." Sylvia replied, her voice hoarse. "While returning from a trip, I was ambushed by a group... Fortunately, I managed to fight back and escape by burning my mana, but I ended up in this state."
Sylvia's gaze met Reynard's.
She didn't want to appear too suspicious or create excuses that might have loopholes. Since she couldn't think of any believable reason to justify her current state in such a short time, she decided to tell the truth.
Or rather, a half-truth.
"Mana? You... are a mana user?" Eleanor suddenly asked, covering her mouth with a hand. Her eyes were wide with genuine, almost childlike surprise.
It was evident that her world did not include the use of magic.
Sylvia's eyes, previously fixed on Reynard, flickered to Eleanor for an instant.
She had forgotten for a moment that these two were ordinary people.
"Yes, I have some abilities. But even for me, it's difficult to walk freely through the kingdom."
Reynard, who expected a better excuse, felt a twinge of disappointment in the pit of his stomach. Eleanor swallowed the story; he, obviously, did not.
He wasn't very surprised by the fact that she was a mana user. The mysterious figure from the cult should also be one, so he was already mentally prepared.
"Bandits." He repeated, his voice heavy with feigned disappointment as he rubbed his chin.
"The road is truly dangerous. Even a mana user can't travel freely. Are bandits becoming so strong that they no longer fear reprisals from the kingdom as before? Perhaps the upcoming meeting has made them bolder..."
His comment sounded indignant, but his eyes were fixed on Sylvia's face, searching for any micro-expression, any tremor on her lips when he mentioned the word 'meeting'.
"Mm." She agreed softly with the minimum movement possible.
No reaction.
'She's good.'
He had to admit it.
"You know about the meeting?" He pressed a little more.
"Of course. Everyone knows. The kingdom is warning all local nobles, and they are spreading the news. It's not a secret. One of the nobles hired me to protect him during the meeting." Sylvia replied simply.
'Oh?' Now it was Reynard's turn to be surprised.
Was she serious, or had she just invented that?
He held her gaze for another second before changing tactics.
"Do you think you'll be fine if we leave you alone in the next town? You can end up encountering more bandits... And the kingdom won't protect you from another attack, even in the city."
This time, he was a little more aggressive.
'?!' Sylvia's pupils contracted for a second before returning to normal.
Why was he saying these things?
Did he know something?
Or was it just a coincidence?
Sylvia tried to nod her head despite her internal turmoil. "I should recover soon, don't worry. The city is also safer than the roads. Just drop me off there, and I will pay for your help."
"Are you truly alright?" Eleanor murmured, looking at Sylvia's limp state.
Given her current condition, it was a bit absurd to think she would get better so quickly. Leaving someone like this alone in a town could be dangerous. Even if she was stronger than they were.
"I'll be fine." Sylvia nodded slightly to Eleanor's question.
Noticing that she wouldn't yield easily, Reynard let out an inaudible sigh and looked away.
"Alright. We'll leave you in the nearest town." He lost interest and didn't try to press further, his gaze fixed on the green landscape rushing past the window.
"Thank you." Sylvia thanked him superficially.
Silence.
The silence settled again.
Eleanor looked between the two, confused by the abrupt change.
Had she missed something?
The minutes continued to pass, but neither of them spoke after that. When the atmosphere was becoming unbearable, Eleanor subtly squeezed the fabric of Reynard's trousers and whispered a question:
"You're a mana user, right? Is there... is there any way for me to be able to use mana?"
Sylvia, who had her eyes closed, opened them to look at Eleanor, finding a pair of eyes that showed pure curiosity.
Hearing this, Reynard, who had seemed distracted by the scenery until then, subtly sharpened his ears, turning his gaze away from the window.
He didn't know Eleanor harbored that kind of ambition.
"Some individuals are born with a natural predisposition to use mana, while others can enhance that ability over time through intensive training and practice, but you..."
"Me?" Eleanor asked curiously, eager for the answer. As someone who came from a lower class of society, hearing about magic was like listening to bedtime stories.
"You are common. Just like him." Sylvia looked at Reynard.
Being inserted into the conversation, Reynard's expression changed slightly. Internally, he was a little stunned.
'Common?'
Was he common?
That word seemed to carry a different weight now that he heard it coming from someone else's mouth. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected it, but hearing it was different from just thinking it. Deep down, that small hope of being able to use magic still existed.
Realistically, if it were possible, his predecessor would have already done it. So it wasn't a blow to be told he couldn't, when he had known since the beginning.
It was just a little strange to hear. The bitter taste in his mouth was unpleasant.
"So I'm common..." Eleanor's expression also fell, the brightness in her eyes dimming a little. She was already getting older, and hoping to use mana wasn't very realistic, so she had expected something like this. Her question was just a momentary curiosity.
Noticing the reaction of the two, Sylvia didn't try to explain further, keeping the answer superficial. There were other important factors—affinity, purity, and volume—but they didn't need those details.
It wasn't as if they were going to become knights.
Right?
After that brief conversation, Reynard asked no more questions. For some unknown reason, his mood was slightly sour.
Sylvia didn't bother continuing, either.
Thus, night fell without them noticing. The moon, a large silver ball, took over the sky, bathing everything below in a milky hue. The cold breeze blew, entering through the carriage window, causing the curtains inside to flutter softly.
At that moment, Reynard was sitting, chewing on a piece of dried pork that Eleanor had purchased beforehand at his request, alternating bites between the meat and the slice of bread in his hand.
It must be said that the cuisine of this world was not very advanced. Thus, he was limited to non-perishable travel food, such as dried meat, hard bread, and dried fruits like raisins and apricots.
Fortunately, they had enough money, so the bread wasn't the cheap black bread made of barley that he was used to eating daily at the castle to save money. Recalling the earthy taste of black bread, Reynard couldn't help but frown.
While he was eating, a strange noise sounded inside the carriage, drawing Reynard's attention. He turned his head, looking at the source of the noise.
Sylvia, who was in a sitting position after Eleanor's help, was looking at Reynard eating. Her eyes were fixed on his hands holding the bread.
At no point did Reynard offer her food.
Hearing her stomach rumble, Eleanor nudged Reynard. "Master Reynard, if Sylvia doesn't eat, she will starve. That would render our efforts to save her in vain."
"Then feed her." Reynard instructed casually, sounding uninterested in conversation.
He turned his face and went back to eating, looking out the window.
The night in this world truly looked beautiful. He never tired of gazing at the stars in the sky that were as numerous as grains of sand.
Sylvia was eating, casting occasional glances at Reynard. He couldn't tell why she was staring at him so much, but he didn't care.
In a few hours, they would reach the nearest town and need to find somewhere to spend the night. The next day, they would resume the journey, before finally arriving at Baron Alderan's lands.
Reynard wondered what he would be like. His lands must be much larger than his and all the other nobles', so he was curious to see what this meeting would be like.
It should be something grand, right?
However, regardless of what the meeting would be like, it didn't change the fact that he still had to try to poison the Baron.
'The enemy of my enemy is my friend...' He recalled that phrase. Telling the Baron wouldn't save him; he might even become the Baron's own victim.
Reynard still didn't know who his real enemy was. If he revealed himself as a member of the Shadow Cult and asked for help, he would be arrested, or even killed.
No one liked traitors, not even the kingdom.
So, the best he could do was remain discreet and not be discovered by the kingdom as a member of the Shadow Cult, while in the process, he tried to disassociate himself from the cult and disappear.
His only advantage was being a small sardine amidst an ocean full of whales.
Reynard finished eating amidst his thoughts. He couldn't help but stretch his arms and yawn, feeling a shiver run through his body. Sitting all day inside a carriage was more tiring than he thought.
And at that moment, someone poked his leg.
He didn't need to look to know who it was.
"What's the problem?"
"Master Reynard, I need to use the bathroom..." Eleanor whispered, her cheeks slightly red.
Hearing this, Reynard frowned. "Can't you wait? The town is close."
"I can't hold it. If it takes any longer, I'll..." She didn't finish speaking, her brown eyes staring at him in a silent plea.
Reynard sighed. Leaning his body toward the window, he stuck his head out and shouted: "Old Henry, stop the carriage!"
Hearing this, old Henry turned his body to look back. Holding the horses' reins, he spoke cautiously: "Lord Reynard, stopping now might be dangerous. We are close to the town; it will only take half an hour to arrive..."
"Stopping now is the same as asking to be robbed." Sylvia added from the side.
She looked a little better after eating.
She lay sprawled on the seat, her black hair falling over her shoulder. The leaves and dirt were in the same places, giving her a pathetic appearance.
"Forget it then." Saying this, Reynard looked at Eleanor and thought of something. Taking a preserve jar from the supply bag, he quickly emptied it out the window and handed it to her.
She took the jar with a confused look. Her eyes stared at Reynard, as if asking what he wanted her to do.
"Just use that." He used his index finger to point to the area between her legs.
His intention was clear.
Realizing what he meant, Eleanor blushed fiercely. Her face was as red as a tomato. Glancing at Sylvia beside her, she shook her head and pushed the jar back, murmuring: "I can't do that."
Sylvia looked away, pretending not to notice what was happening.