Chapter 560

The carriage jolted over the uneven road, its hurried pace making the ride grueling for Kayla. After only half an hour, Carissa noticed Kayla’s pale face and hand clutching her chest as if she were about to be sick.

Carissa asked, "Are you feeling nauseous from the carriage ride? Should I have the driver slow down?"

"No, don't slow down," Kayla waved her hand dismissively. "We need to go as fast as possible. I wish this horse had wings to fly us to Westglade. Don't mind my frail appearance, Your Grace—I can endure hardship."

"Alright, then." Carissa reached into her bag and pulled out the dried fruits Lulu had packed. Finding some ginger candies, she said, "Suck on this candy. It'll help you feel better."

"Thank you!" Kayla popped a piece into her mouth. The sweet and spicy taste spread, somewhat alleviating her nausea.

Meanwhile, Rafael had arranged for the carriage to be modified in Simonton City. It was now spacious enough for Lawrence to lie down comfortably. Soft padding eased the pain from the bumps. The military physician sat with him, fanning away the heat and monitoring his condition. Oliver had provided the best horses for everyone else.

Having stayed out of sight for a while, Oliver finally appeared to see them off. He avoided eye contact with Thomas, and Thomas reciprocated. There was almost no exchange of glances between them.

As Thomas was about to mount his horse, however, Oliver suddenly called out, "Thomas!"

Thomas turned. "Do you need something, Marshal Prince?"

Oliver looked at Thomas's tanned, clean-shaven face, noting the absence of his former charm. A pang of bitterness struck his heart.

"I'm glad you're still alive."

Thomas grinned. "Thank you, Marshal Prince. Farewell."

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Despite his injuries, Oliver watched Thomas swing himself onto the horse with practiced ease. The man sat upright with the poise of a soldier. Of all Oliver's brothers-in-law, Thomas was the one Oliver admired most. It was a shame that fate had severed their connection so soon.

Louis and Timothy were escorting them to Westglade. Since there was no ongoing war, their extended absence was not an issue, and Oliver didn't make things difficult for them. Considering the relatives hadn't seen each other for years and once thought they would never meet again, it was only natural to want to spend as much time together as possible upon reuniting. That was a common human sentiment.

"Farewell, Your Highness!" Oliver said, but Rafael didn't even turn his head. He simply waved and spurred his horse forward.

Everett wouldn't stay in Westglade, but would return directly to Meadow Ridge. However, his route for now was the same as Rafael's group. Given Lawrence's injuries, their pace was slow. Everett and Rafael rode side by side.

"It would be good if there were no future wars on the Southern Frontier. But if there is one, it will surely be a disaster under Oliver's command," Everett remarked.

Everett possessed a sharp eye for people and could read them with uncanny accuracy. He had only met Oliver a handful of times, but it was enough to see through him. Whether someone was weak, strong, cowardly, or confident—Everett could tell at a glance. Oliver lacked the true confidence of a marshal; his was merely an act, and it was obvious. Beneath his bravado, he was all bark and no bite.

Rafael said, "I know what kind of man Oliver is—he loves glory and attention. He's good at keeping up appearances, so he didn't offend people in the capital. But when it comes to taking the spotlight, he'll jump at the chance. In the military, he hasn't made any big mistakes or significant contributions. It was his commanding officer who earned the real achievements; he just followed along and picked up some merit along the way."

"He only got noticed because he stole the spotlight. Why else would the king have—

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—picked him? Besides, he's easy to control. He's not skilled enough to act recklessly. If he had real talent, he would do more and make more mistakes. That is something even idiots understand," Everett said.

Rafael glanced at Everett and smiled. He couldn't help but admit that his master's sharp tongue could sometimes be brutal.

If Rafael pushed his horse to its limits, the group could have reached Westglade in a day. But at their current pace, it would take three to five days. Conveniently, it would also take four or five days for a fast rider to travel from the capital to Westglade. The timing matched perfectly.