The sun shone brightly above as Evelina and Jasper galloped down the twisting roads that lined the cliffs of Arcadia's western edge. Their horses raced along the dirt path, kicking up clouds of dust behind them.
They could feel the pressure of time pushing them forward—each heartbeat meant they were farther away from catching the Oakenshaw convoy and giving Luther a chance to escape without anyone knowing.
"We're close!" Jasper called over the wind, pointing to a faint shimmer of movement down the slope ahead. "I see them—by the river bend!"
Evelina nodded without breaking stride. They galloped harder, the ache in her arms and the sting in her eyes ignored.
The royal convoy had paused near a narrow glade for a midday rest—dozens of carriages, horses, and soldiers stretching in long lines along the road's shoulder. Oakenshaw banners fluttered lazily from their mounts, their silks glinting in the light.
