Maybe Luther should have followed his senses this time.
His gut told him this trip was going to be a headache, and for once, his gut was right.
He sat lazily on the carriage floor, the door wide open, one leg sticking out like he owned the entire roadside. In his hand was a small loaf of bread he'd snatched earlier from the knights' rations. Every now and then, he broke off a piece, popped it into his mouth, and chewed slowly—watching the chaos unfold like it was a free play staged for his amusement.
The knights stood stiffly on both sides of the carriage, their armor gleaming in the morning light, expressions mixed between concern and fear. Even the young apprentice, Jio, stood among them, his hands fidgeting nervously with the hilt of his sword. Not one of them dared to move.
Luther wanted to laugh. Oh, how badly he wanted to laugh. But he held himself back, taking another bite instead.
Then came the voice.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
