“Of course,” Lyn replied. She was mildly gratified by Prince Aidan’s improved manner of speaking to her, but that didn’t mean that she liked him as a person quite yet. 

They arrived in the village, which was moving at a steady afternoon bustle. No one seemed too concerned with the arrival of a shabby cart driven by a woman. Lyn secured a space to tether the horse with a small payment to the hostler outside the nearest inn, and then returned to the wagon.

“We’ve arrived, Erik,” she called into the wagon. Once he emerged, she would lock up the wagon’s contents, tether it with the horse, and take a seat inside that was facing the window, so she could keep an eye on their belongings while they dined. This seemed like a relatively mild-mannered village, but one could never be too careful.

“Erik?” she asked, wondering what was taking him so long to disembark.