The iron gates of the Alvarez fortress creaked under the weight of the morning wind. Outside the stone walls, the air was crisp, smelling of wet pine and the cold iron of a thousand soldiers’ kits.

Ace Alvarez sat motionless atop his warhorse, a massive stallion as black as a moonless night.

The beast was restless, sensing its master’s agitation; it pawed at the churned mud of the road, its breath huffing out plumes of white vapor. Ace tightened his grip on the reins, his leather gloves creaking in the silence. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Logically, he should have been miles away by now. The Northern Border didn’t wait for domestic sentiment, and the reports of skirmishes in the foothills were growing more frequent. Yet, he remained.

Traditionally, this was the part of the morning that Ace dreaded most.

In every scenario he had played out in his head, and certainly based on the woman he had known for the past few weeks, the road behind him should have been a flurry of activity. Evelina was supposed to have sent at least three frantic messengers by now.

He could almost see them in his mind: the first breathless page delivering a tear-stained letter; the second bringing a forgotten token of her affection; and the third, perhaps the carriage itself, with Evelina throwing herself at his stirrups for one final and desperate goodbye.

That was the Evelina he married. A woman who wore her heart on her sleeves, like a target, begging for a scrap of his time.

It was a suffocating kind of devotion that made him want to ride faster and stay away longer.

But the road from the manor remained still. The only thing moving in the distance was the morning mist rolling over the hills.

Ace shifted in his saddle, the plates of his armor clinking with a sharp, metallic ring. He adjusted his cloak, then straightened his sword belt, looking for any excuse to remain in place for just a moment longer.

"The supply wagons, Lieutenant," Ace said, his voice gruff, "Are the axles greased on the third carriage? I saw it swaying near the turn."

His second-in-command, a seasoned soldier named Marcus, blinked in surprise, "I checked them myself at dawn, Your Grace. They’re as steady as the castle walls."

"Check them again," Ace commanded, his eyes darting toward the horizon, "We cannot afford a breakdown in the mountain passes."

Marcus looked at his commander, then followed Ace’s gaze back toward the estate. The lieutenant had been with the Duke long enough to know the routine.

Usually, by this point, they were already delayed by at least thirty minutes as the Duke’s new wife made a scene at the gates.

"Shall we wait another ten minutes, my lord?" Marcus asked, his tone carefully neutral, "In case... there are further instructions from the Duchess?"

"I don’t need ’instructions’ from a girl who can barely find her way to the dining hall by herself," Ace snapped.

He looked back at the manor road one more time. It was completely, jarringly empty. No carriage was kicking up dust. No servant was running toward them waving a white handkerchief. Not even a stable boy had been sent to check if the Duke had departed.

It was as if the manor had simply forgotten he existed the moment he stepped over the threshold.

The rejection he had delivered the night before, the cold promise that he wouldn’t return for months, was supposed to have triggered a crisis behind him.

It was supposed to have made her cling tighter. Instead, it seemed to have acted as a severing blow that worked both ways.

Ace felt an uncomfortable heat rising in his neck. He had wanted peace. He had wanted her to stop pestering him.

He had spent months complaining about her clingy nature in his mind. Now that he had exactly what he asked for, the silence felt less like peace and more like a challenge.

The wind picked up, whistling through the gaps in his helmet. His men were settled, their horses quieted, all eyes turned toward him, waiting for the signal to begin the grueling march North.

The silence from the manor was deafening. It was like an invisible weight, pressing against his back, mocking the arrogance he had displayed the night before.

"Close the door on your way out," she had said. At the time, he thought she was being pretentious. Now, he realized she might have been sincere.

She wasn’t mourning his departure. She was actually waiting for him to leave.

"My lord?" Marcus prompted, his horse shifting impatiently, "The sun is high. We’re losing the light for the pass."

Ace’s jaw tightened. He felt a gnawing annoyance in the pit of his stomach; a restless feeling he usually only felt when a battle plan went sideways.

He had spent his life following a certain script: he was the untouchable, distant man who fought for the kingdom, and she was the tragic bride that came uninvited in his life.

But as he stared at the vacant road, he realized with a jolt of alarm that Evelina had stopped reading from his script. She had torn up the pages and started writing her own.

"Move out!" Ace growled, the sound more like a snarl than a command.

He lashed his horse with the reins, harder than was necessary, sending the stallion bolting forward in a spray of mud.

The army followed, a thundering wave of steel and hoofbeats, but Ace didn’t look back.

He kept his eyes fixed on the Northern horizon, trying to ignore the nagging thought that for the first time in his life, he had no idea what was happening in his own home.

He had wanted to be free of her drama, but as the fortress gates faded into the distance, he found himself wondering, with a frustration that bordered on fury, exactly what she was doing in that study right now.

...

[Notification: Primary Target ’Ace Alvarez’ has departed.]

[Status: Perplexed & Irritated]

[Bonus Reward: 20 Gold for ’Mental Lingering’]

Miles away, tucked in her warm bed, Evelina didn’t even hear the gates close. She was too busy browsing the System.