The week she's given to prepare passes quickly, and Lenore finds herself in the carriage that will take her to the Barrowmere Duchy. The journey will take several days, but she doesn't know if they'll stop at night to rest or care for the horses.
She hears the coachman speak, then the carriage jerks into motion. Her small entourage consists of Mary and a few knights who will escort her before returning to Claude with the carriage. Inside the carriage, Mary is her only companion, dressed in comfortable clothes instead of her uniform.
As the horses reach their stride, the gates of Rowanhart Duchy pass by. Lenore brushes her fingertips over the window, its glass cold from the autumn morning chill. How long has it been since she's been outside those gates?
Too long, she thinks. She's forgotten what it means to live beyond the boundaries of the estate, an expansive property that became her cage.
"I never thought I'd be going even farther from my family once I was finally allowed to leave." Lenore removes her hand from the window, letting it rest on her lap. "The east side of the empire feels so far away."
"From the Rowanhart Duchy, it is far away," Mary says. "We'll pass through the capital on our way and a few smaller territories that aren't under the control of the dukes of the empire."
The idea of being separated from Claude is a welcome thought, but the vast distance Mary describes is difficult to comprehend without having seen the world outside the estate in years. "I had hoped that I could try seeing my parents after being sent away."
Mary doesn't know Lenore's family. Claude assigned her as Lenore's maid after bringing her to the estate, which let her leave her previous role as a kitchen maid. Lenore wouldn't be surprised if Mary believed she'd been abandoned—Lenore herself had thought the same for years. Now, she's not as certain. As she aged and learned more about her uncle, she realized that he often had bad intentions when he made decisions, whether it was about her, his territory, and everything in between. The only exception is—and always has been—Alina.
"My lady, even with the rumors surrounding him, it'd be unreasonable for Duke Barrowmere to restrict you from sending letters. Especially one to your parents." Mary gives her a small smile, but her eyes betray the uncertainty in her words. "It would take longer to arrive, of course."
Lenore finds the idea tempting, but daunting. It's been over ten years since she last saw her family, much less spoke to them. Maybe she'll send a letter after she learns about her role as Duchess Barrowmere. For now, she's silent as the carriage moves, jostling her as it passes over rocks and uneven paths. The silence isn't as stifling as it was in her uncle's estate. It's easier than voicing her fears—that maybe her family doesn't want to hear from her after all these years. Her uncle is a liar, yes, but what if that was the truth?
This is going to be a long trip, and that gives her too much time to think.
-:-
Less than half a day into the trip, Lenore discovers that she's developed an issue with motion sickness over the years. Perhaps she's always had it, but hasn't been in a carriage for so long, she forgot. Either way, it doesn't lessen her misery.
Mary has closed the curtains over the carriage's windows and used her cloak as a makeshift pillow for Lenore, who lies across the bench seat, her legs curled up to fit.
"You should've told me that you get motion sickness, my lady. I could've prepared medicine for you before we left."
Lenore doesn't have the energy to point out that she also had no idea that she gets motion sickness. If the gods of the empire are real, they must have a grudge against her. Otherwise, why else would she spend her life suffering, then be subjected to days of traveling in misery when she's finally free of one prison and on her way to another?
It would be funny if it she didn't feel like her stomach is filled with acid, bubbling and burning as it threatens to crawl up her throat and into the carriage's footwell. Instead of laughing at the gods' cruelty, she groans.
The pain and nausea blur her sense of time. She floats between the waking world and her dreams. From there, she remembers a handful of vague memories. Mary speaking to her. Being helped up to drink something awfully bitter. Darkness. Another bitter drink. Voices speaking far away. She has a sense that her body feels better, but it's difficult to keep her eyes open for more than a few minutes. She's given another drink. Somebody carries her to a different location. Darkness. Bitterness. Floating. The carriage's rocking.
It's a cycle, and she can't tell how much time passes. Not until she wakes up in what has to be an inn room, simple and undecorated, with Mary at her bedside holding a glass of water. She sits up, and the glass is shoved into her hands.
Mary is already gathering items from Lenore's luggage as she drinks the water. "My lady, you need to hurry. You have to wash up and get dressed before meeting the duke."
Lenore nearly chokes. "That's today?"
"It's been two weeks, and we arrived in Barrowmere a few days ago." Mary huffs, but there's no anger in her expression. Just a sense of urgency. "You were so ill, we stopped for medicine early on. While it made you tired enough that you slept for the majority of the trip, it also means that you're in need of a thorough scrubbing before you meet your fiancé."
Balancing swiftness and necessity, Mary washes and dresses her, tying her hair into an elegant braided style Lenore never knew she could do. Then the anxiety starts to set in.
The infamous Duke of Barrowmere is one more short carriage trip away.