Her Graceful War Song

Carissa studied the man and woman carefully, feeling a sense of unease. She couldn't quite place their age. They looked to be in their thirties, yet there was an undeniable vitality about them, as if they were no older than twenty.

Her gaze moved to their eyes, particularly the man's. His eyes were as deep and mysterious, yet they held the calculating sharpness of a seasoned old fox.

Before Carissa could say anything, the man stepped forward and spoke.

"This is where the orphanage is being built? Is the local government funding it?"

Travis glanced at them, noting their perfectly spoken Starhaven dialect. They clearly weren't from Victory Pass, yet he saw no malice in their faces. He nodded.

"Yes, it's a place to take in abandoned children," he replied. "It's being supported by the local government."

The man nodded. "That's a good cause."

Carissa stepped forward. "Are you from the capital?"

The man regarded her but didn't answer her question. Instead, he asked, "Are you the Hell Monarch's princess consort, Lady Carissa?"

A chill ran through Carissa. She was about to demand how he knew that when he spoke again. "You're heading to Orivenia, aren't you? When do you leave? Could we accompany you?"

Carissa was taken aback. While many people knew they were traveling to Orivenia for the negotiations, it was a mission involving official delegates. There was no way they could bring outsiders along.

Yet, the man had asked so casually.

She regained her composure and asked, "What is it that you need in Orivenia?"

The man answered, "We just want to observe your talks and bear witness, if you will."

Carissa felt a mix of suspicion and curiosity. He either had a significant background or was simply talking nonsense. She studied them again. They seemed serious, but their appearance-dressed in threadbare clothes-made them look more like wandering vagabonds than anything else.

Before she could respond, the man spoke once more.

"We haven't eaten yet. Could we trouble you to share a meal with us? It's been a long journey, and we're anxious to look around once we arrive. We even missed last night's dinner."

Violet had just stepped out when she heard this. She had missed the earlier conversation and only caught the part about someone asking

Carissa to treat them to a meal. She

glanced at the couple and as shep

they were wandering travelers, then said, "Sure, I'll treat you to a meal. We're all friends when we're away from home."

The man's expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then I thank you kindly. How does Spring Pavilion sound?"

Carissa knew Spring Pavilion well-it was a well-known restaurant in the border town, famed for its unique dishes. The prices were reasonable, the portions generous, and it was only a short walk away.

Carissa wasn't accustomed to inviting strangers to dinner, but since Violet had already agreed and she herself was curious about their backgrounds, she nodded in assent.

She led them toward the restaurant, but to her surprise, the man followed them while the woman went in the opposite direction.

Violet was somewhat puzzled and asked, "Isn't your wife coming with us?"

The man answered, "She is. She returned to fetch a few others. We have companions."

He then asked, "There are more people coming, which means more people to feed. Would you mind?"noveldrama

Violet smiled. "Not at all."

More people meant more people to feed, but it hardly mattered there would still be plenty of food to go around.

As they walked to Spring Pavilion, Carissa asked him his surname. The man shrugged, his voice light. "Names are mere symbols. What matters is fate."

Travis observed him closely for a moment and muttered under his breath,

"Mysterious, isn't he? Could he be some hidden expert?"

His voice was so quiet that only he could hear, but the man replied, "I'm no hidden expert-just a weary soul worn by endless travel."

When Violet heard this, she felt a

twinge of irritation. They were about to treat him and his wife to dinner, and yet he wouldn't even share his name. It struck her as rather petty.