The Prince's Arranged Marriage Chapter 14: The Journey To Riverbed

The morning air was crisp as we departed from Aquamarina, the scent of salt and brine still lingering in the breeze. The convoy set off just after sunrise, the golden light casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets. rchants were already setting up their stalls in the Seafarer's Market, their voices carrying through the air as they prepared for another bustling day of trade. I watched through the window as the harbor gradually disappeared behind us, the last glimpses of the glimring sea fading into the horizon. The further we drove, the more Aquamarina's lively charm lted away, replaced by the quiet serenity of the countryside.

Alexander sat across from in the car, impeccably dressed as always, his posture effortlessly composed. He was reading over sothing on his tablet—likely a briefing or so diplomatic report. For once, I didn't feel the usual irritation at his unwavering focus on duty. Maybe it was the lingering effects of Aquamarina, a city that had a way of making even the most reluctant hearts feel at ease.

The scenery shifted quickly as we moved inland. The rocky cliffs and rolling coastal hills gave way to expansive adows, the earth turning from sandy beige to deep, fertile brown. Fields stretched endlessly on either side of the road, dotted with grazing livestock and neat rows of crops. It was a stark contrast to Veridia's polished grandeur and Aquamarina's bustling trade routes—a land rooted in the quiet strength of agriculture, in the people who worked the soil and reaped its rewards.

I leaned back against the seat, watching as farrs guided plows across their fields, their silhouettes dark against the rising sun. So looked up as our convoy passed, pausing their work montarily to wave. I raised a hand in return, though I doubted they could see the gesture through the tinted windows. Still, there was sothing grounding about their presence, a reminder that outside the courts and politics, real life continued with or without us.

"You look deep in thought," Alexander remarked, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

I turned my gaze to him, arching a brow. "I wasn't aware you cared about my thoughts."

His lips quirked slightly. "I don't. I'm just wondering if you're going to sulk the entire way to Riverbed or if I should prepare for an actual conversation."

I scoffed. "I don't sulk."

"You absolutely do," he countered, setting his tablet aside. "You have a very particular way of staring out the window as if the world personally offends you."

I rolled my eyes but found myself fighting the urge to smile. "And here I thought you were too busy strategizing to notice such trivial things."

Alexander tilted his head slightly, studying . "I notice more than you think."

Sothing in his tone made my breath catch for a fraction of a second, but I quickly recovered, waving a dismissive hand. "Well, if you're so desperate for conversation, tell sothing interesting about Avaloria."

He considered this for a mont before replying, "Did you know Avaloria has a festival dedicated entirely to honey?"

I blinked. "I... did not."

"It's held in Altheria every autumn. Beekeepers from across the kingdom bring their best honey, and there's a competition to see who can create the most unique honey-based dish. It's quite the event."

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. "And you attend this festival?"

Alexander smirked. "Every year."

The idea of the ever-composed Prince Alexander walking through a honey festival, sampling sweets like a commoner, was so absurd that I actually laughed. "I don't believe you."

He shrugged. "It's true. I even have a personal favorite—a spiced honey tart. You'd like it."

I scoffed. "I doubt that."

"You like pastries," he pointed out. "I saw how many you bought in Veridia."

I frowned. "That was different."

"How so?"

I had no real argunt, so I just crossed my arms and turned back toward the window. Alexander let out a soft chuckle, clearly satisfied with his small victory.

The journey continued, the terrain shifting yet again. The closer we got to Riverbed, the more vibrant the landscape beca. The fields gave way to rolling orchards, their branches heavy with fruit—apples, peaches, plums. The scent of fresh earth and blooming wildflowers filled the air, carried on the gentle breeze from the river that wound through the land like a gleaming ribbon.

As the river widened, so did the roads, curving gracefully to follow the water's natural bends. Wooden bridges arched over the glistening expanse, connecting vast stretches of farmland on either side. The villages here had a charming simplicity—whitewashed cottages with thatched roofs nestled among sprawling vineyards. Farrs rode along on horse-drawn carts filled with produce, while children ran barefoot along the riverbanks, splashing in the shallows. Everything here felt untouched by the harsh realities of court life, almost like a different world entirely.

Alexander shifted in his seat, glancing at the scenery with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. "It's different from the cities we've visited so far," he said after a mont.

I nodded. "Less spectacle, more substance."

He gave a sidelong look. "That almost sounded like a complint."

"Don't get used to it."

He smirked but didn't press the matter.

The further we traveled, the more I began to appreciate the quiet beauty of the landscape. The river was the heart of this region, its waters providing life to everything around it. We passed fishern pulling in their morning catch, their boats bobbing gently in the current. In the distance, I could see the outline of windmills standing tall against the horizon, their blades turning lazily with the breeze. It was peaceful, untouched by the political machinations that dictated my life.

Alexander broke the silence. "You seem... at ease."

I hesitated before answering. "I think I just like the change of pace."

He nodded, as if he understood. "Not every place has to be grand to be significant."

I glanced at him, surprised by the sentint. "That almost sounded poetic."

"Don't get used to it," he echoed my earlier words with a teasing glint in his eyes.

For once, I didn't mind his company as much as I usually did.

As we neared Riverbed, the city itself finally ca into view—built along the river's curve, its buildings a blend of rustic charm and elegant design. Stone pathways led down to the water, where docks bustled with activity. The river was alive with movent, boats carrying goods and people alike. Farrs led oxen through the shallows, their carts laden with fresh produce. Everything about Riverbed felt warm, welcoming, and rich with history.

A strange feeling settled in my chest, sothing quieter than longing but just as persistent. Perhaps it was the way the city felt so deeply connected to its land, or maybe it was just the relief of leaving the constraints of formality behind for a while.

Alexander seed to notice my lingering gaze. "Looking forward to the tour?"

I glanced at him, then back at the city ahead. "Maybe."

He smiled—small, but genuine. And for the first ti in a long ti, the road ahead didn't seem quite so daunting.