Chapter 9: Lessons in Self-Preservation
The early morning mist hung thick over the town of Fenwood, casting a quiet pall over its cobblestone streets. The sun had yet to fully rise, and the air was cool, with a faint scent of damp earth and blooming roses. Roland Farter stood at the edge of the small courtyard outside his modest quarters, staring at the horizon where the sky was just beginning to lighten. His fingers drummed against the hilt of his sword absentmindedly as he thought about the strange new life he'd found himself in.
Things had settled down after his fateful encounter with Princess Althea. He had kept his lowly position as a scout, assisting with various tasks around the keep. However, as quiet as the life seemed, Roland knew deep down that it wasn't the kind of existence where he could relax. The world had a funny way of pulling him into trouble, even when he didn't want to be involved.
He had learned, over the past few weeks, that in this world, a lack of attention—an absence of the spotlight—was often the best protection one could have. It was the key to survival.
The thought occurred to him as he watched several knights rush past on their morning drills, their swords flashing in the early light. A part of him longed to join them, to take on the mantle of heroism and duty. But every time he entertained such thoughts, he remembered the life he had lived before. In his previous world, he had seen how often the spotlight led to disaster.
His previous world… that seemed so far away now. Roland had to remind himself sometimes that his past life as a failed author was still with him, like a shadow he couldn't outrun. He often wondered how different things might have been if he had taken another path, but that was a thought for another time.
As he stood there lost in thought, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Roland! Are you daydreaming again?"
He turned to see Althea walking toward him, her usual regal air softened by the casualness of her attire. No crown, no gown—just a simple blue tunic and a belt of leather. Even without the royal insignia, she held herself with an unmistakable grace.
"Just contemplating the world," Roland replied with a smile, though his mind was elsewhere.
"I see," she said, crossing her arms. "Something troubling you?"
Roland hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing that can't be figured out. Just thinking about survival, that's all."
Althea's eyes narrowed. "Survival? Are you still worried about being swept up into something you can't control?"
Roland glanced away, his hand tightening around the sword hilt once more. "It's not that I fear being in danger," he said, his voice lowering. "But there's something about this world—about being seen—that makes it so much more... dangerous. You saw it yourself, didn't you? The moment anyone notices you, they expect something from you."
Althea stepped closer, her face softening with understanding. "You're right. That's the trouble of being in the public eye. But there's another way, Roland. You can still protect yourself, even without standing out."
Roland looked at her, confused. "And how would I do that?"
She smiled, an almost mischievous glint in her eyes. "By learning how to blend in. You'd be surprised how much safer you can be if no one knows your name, your skills, or your true intentions."
Roland raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I follow."
"Let me show you," she said, "and I'll teach you how to be a ghost in plain sight."