"We haven't taken a wrong turn, have we?..." Winters muttered to himself as he eased the BMW onto the unpolished gravel road. "The navigator says we're on course, but it's been wrong before."

[color=aba000]"I believe we're on track, Winters. The mountain range in the distance closely resembles the one from the invitation,"[/color] the woman beside him responded, pointing a gloved finger at the long ridge filling the horizon. [color=aba000]"Please stop worrying."[/color]

"Of course, Lady Jane. My apologies, Lady Jane," he responded quickly, avoiding eye contact. It was a matter of professionalism to never look directly at nobility, and the woman he was escorting was certainly that. Everything about her, from her tall, trim posture to the beautiful golden coat of arms emblazoned on the back of her hunter green jacket, commanded respect, but a baroness should expect nothing less.

[color=aba000]"Are you wearing your sidearm, Winters?"[/color] she asked, scanning the horizon for their destination. He tapped the side of his coat with a hand in response, confirming her suspicion.

[color=aba000]"Did I not ask you to leave it behind?"[/color]

The assistant winced. "The royal family insisted, Lady Jane."

[color=aba000]"Hmph,"[/color] Amie huffed, scowling. [color=aba000]"I expect you to keep it both out of sight and mind. This is a diplomatic affair, but more than that it is a natural retreat. I would prefer to not present ourselves as a threat, if you please."[/color]

"Permission to speak my mind, Lady Jane?" the assistant asked crisply, though Amie detected a hint of fear in his voice.

[color=aba000]"Granted,"[/color] she replied, glancing at him.

"Perhaps if you do not wish to pose a threat, you should not wear a sword by your side, Lady Jane," Winters replied, referring to the razor-sharp longsword sheathed with a thick leather belt behind her seat. Amie was the only member of her household to carry a weapon openly. She had refused immediately to having a bodyguard accompanying her, and after a considerable amount of bickering she convinced her parents to let her arm herself, on the terms that she wield a 'noble weapon.' In other words, an old weapon. Gold and steel, not black and composite plastic. She settled on the English twoedged longsword eleven years ago and it had not left her side since.

A long pause followed the suggestion. Winters was right, of course, but the Jane household does not take orders from anyone outside their bloodline, so Winters was wrong. He was always wrong, and yet he never let it stop him from voicing his thoughts (with permission granted), something Amie was secretly grateful for. Unlike her elders, Amie never saw herself as any better than anyone else, and any opinion was better than no opinion. Still, she was expected to act the part, and she settled for a peaceful middle ground:

[color=aba000]"That will be all, Winters."[/color]

"As you wish, Lady Jane-oof!" Winters grunted. The gravel had devolved into an uneven hard dirt track. "Goodness, this is unlike any place we have been ambassadors to. I will have to clean the car."

[color=aba000]"Come now, Winters, chin up! A change of pace may do us well,"[/color] the baroness responded cheerfully. She was far more excited about the prospect of untainted wilderness than she let on.

Winters raised an eyebrow as the lodge came into view. It looked nothing like the luxury he was accustomed to, which lead to a certain degree of dread about the days to come, and he could only hope her ladyship was correct.