The sun was beginning to sink behind the distant hills when Jackson finally realized something important.

  They had been walking for hours.

  The road they followed had long since turned from stone to packed dirt, and now even that had faded into a simple trail cutting through a quiet forest. Tall trees stretched upward like pillars, their branches weaving together to catch the last light of evening.

  Victoria stopped walking.

  Jackson almost walked straight into her.

  She turned slowly, one elegant eyebrow raised.

  “Are you planning to continue marching through the night?”

  Jackson blinked. “Uh… no?”

  Victoria gestured vaguely at the surrounding forest.

  “Then perhaps now would be the time to prepare a camp.”

  Jackson glanced around.

  Trees.

  Grass.

  Some rocks.

  A lot of… nature.

  His brain immediately began searching for a solution and found absolutely nothing.

  Victoria crossed her arms.

  “Well?”

  Jackson straightened slightly and nodded with a confidence he absolutely did not feel.

  “I know a bit.”

  Victoria studied him.

  Her sharp blue eyes seemed to dissect every movement he made, measuring his competence like a noblewoman inspecting a servant's work.

  'Okay Jackson… you just lied to a noble villainess.'

  'Great start.'

  He turned away quickly before she could notice the uncertainty creeping onto his face.

  'Camping… camping…'

  His mind scrambled through his memories.

  And then—

  A faint image surfaced.

  A younger version of himself standing in a park wearing a too-big uniform and a bright neckerchief.

  Cub scouts.

  'Oh.'

  'Right.'

  Jackson crouched and picked up a few sticks, turning them over in his hands while the memory slowly pieced itself together.

  'It was what… ten years ago?'

  He vaguely remembered a very enthusiastic scout leader explaining things in dramatic detail.

  Something about choosing flat ground.

  Keeping fire away from trees.

  And… something about wind?

  Jackson looked around again, this time more carefully.

  The clearing they stood in was small but workable. The ground was mostly even, with a few exposed roots here and there. A cluster of rocks sat nearby, and fallen branches were scattered around the forest floor.

  'Okay… this might actually work.'

  Behind him, Victoria watched silently.

  She stood with perfect posture despite the long journey, her long blonde hair catching the fading light like strands of gold. Even in the middle of a forest she looked like she belonged in a noble garden rather than the wilderness.

  “Are you planning something,” she asked dryly, “or simply collecting sticks for decoration?”

  Jackson stood up with an armful of branches.

  “Planning.”

  Victoria tilted her head slightly.

  “Oh?”

  Jackson placed the branches down near the rocks and began gathering more.

  'Flat ground.'

  He kicked away loose stones and cleared a small space.

  'Fire needs to be contained.'

  He dragged several rocks into a rough circle.

  Victoria’s gaze followed each movement.

  Her expression was unreadable, though there was a faint hint of curiosity in her eyes now.

  “You seem surprisingly calm for someone improvising.”

  Jackson shrugged.

  “I am improvising.”

  “You admitted it rather easily.”

  “Honesty seemed safer.”

  Victoria gave a quiet huff.

  “Reasonable.”

  Jackson continued working.

  He gathered dry sticks, then thinner twigs, stacking them into a small pile near the circle of stones. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t professional.

  But it resembled something close to a fire pit.

  'Please let childhood scouting memories be enough.'

  He crouched down and arranged the twigs carefully.

  Victoria finally stepped closer, watching him work.

  “For someone who only ‘knows a bit,’” she said slowly, “you appear somewhat organized.”

  Jackson glanced up briefly.

  “Beginner’s luck.”

  She studied the rough camp area again.

  The cleared ground.

  The circle of stones.

  The growing pile of firewood.

  Then she gave a small nod.

  “…Acceptable.”

  For Victoria Valencrest, that might have been the highest praise available.

  Jackson managed to get a fire going after several stubborn attempts.

  The small flames flickered weakly at first before gradually growing stronger, casting warm light across the clearing.

  Night had fully settled over the forest now.

  Crickets chirped somewhere in the distance. Leaves rustled softly as the wind passed through the trees.

  Jackson leaned back slightly, resting his arms on his knees.

  Across the fire, Victoria sat with perfect composure despite the simple surroundings. The firelight danced across her face, softening the sharpness of her usual noble glare.

  Neither of them spoke.

  The silence wasn’t awkward.

  Just… quiet.

  Jackson watched the flames shift and crackle.

  Victoria watched them too.

  Two strangers from completely different worlds sitting beside a small, imperfect campfire.

  The fire crackled softly between them.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Orange light flickered across the clearing, pushing back the darkness just enough to make the surrounding trees look like silent watchers standing at the edge of the night.

  Victoria sat with her back straight despite the rough ground beneath her. Even seated beside a campfire in the wilderness, she somehow managed to maintain the poise of someone attending a noble gathering.

  Jackson sat across from her, leaning slightly forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

  For a while, neither of them spoke.

  The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable.

  Just… unfamiliar.

  Victoria finally broke the silence.

  “Jackson.”

  He looked up.

  “Yes?”

  Her bright blue eyes studied him carefully, reflecting the firelight.

  “There is something I wish to ask.”

  Jackson felt a faint sense of dread immediately crawl up his spine.

  'Uh oh.'

  Victoria tilted her head slightly.

  “How is it that you know so much about me?”

  Jackson blinked.

  'Right.'

  'That.'

  He had been expecting that question eventually.

  He just hadn’t expected it this soon.

  Victoria continued, her tone calm but sharp.

  “You knew my name before I told you. You knew my family. You even knew how others speak of me.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  “That is not common knowledge outside noble circles.”

  Jackson’s brain scrambled for a response.

  He scratched the back of his head casually.

  “You're one of the most famous nobles out there!”

  Victoria paused.

  The answer hung in the air for a moment.

  Then she gave a small nod.

  “That is true.”

  Jackson nearly sighed in relief.

  'Thank you, inflated noble ego.'

  Victoria lifted her chin slightly, her confidence returning without hesitation.

  “My reputation does tend to precede me.”

  Jackson nodded along as if this explanation made perfect sense.

  Internally, however, his thoughts went somewhere very different.

  'More like infamous.'

  The crackling fire blurred slightly in his vision as an old memory surfaced.

  A computer screen.

  A colorful title menu.

  Royal Hearts.

  He remembered the first time he had seen her character appear in the game.

  Lady Victoria Celestine Valencrest.

  The classic villainess archetype.

  Elegant.

  Cruel.

  Dramatic.

  And somehow always present whenever the protagonist had a major social disaster.

  'You were the queen of humiliating people at tea parties.'

  He remembered the dialogue choices too.

  Most of them ended with Victoria delivering a devastating insult while background music played dramatically.

  'Man… the forums used to hate you.'

  Jackson stared into the fire.

  'But you were also weirdly popular.'

  Mostly because of how entertaining her scenes were.

  Victoria crossed one leg over the other gracefully.

  “Still,” she said, “it is unusual for someone outside noble society to speak so casually about such matters.”

  Jackson shrugged.

  “I hear things.”

  That wasn’t technically a lie.

  Victoria accepted the vague answer surprisingly easily.

  “Rumors travel quickly.”

  The silence returned for a moment.

  Jackson suddenly stood.

  Victoria looked up at him.

  “Where are you going?”

  Jackson glanced toward the dark forest surrounding the clearing.

  “Well… we should probably eat something.”

  Victoria blinked once.

  “You intend to find food.”

  “Yeah.”

  She examined him with clear skepticism.

  “In the dark.”

  Jackson paused.

  “…Yes.”

  Victoria rested her chin lightly against her hand.

  “You continue to display unexpected confidence.”

  Jackson shrugged again.

  'If cub scouts prepared me for camping… surely random survival instincts will handle hunting.'

  Right?

  He grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground.

  “Stay here. I won’t be long.”

  Victoria looked thoroughly unconvinced.

  But she didn’t argue.

  “Very well.”

  Jackson stepped beyond the firelight.

  The forest swallowed him almost immediately.

  The sounds of the campfire faded behind him as he moved carefully between the trees.

  Leaves crunched softly beneath his feet.

  Jackson slowed his breathing and forced himself to pay attention to his surroundings.

  'Okay… think.'

  Animals.

  Small animals.

  Rabbits maybe?

  He crouched near a patch of grass that looked slightly disturbed.

  'I've seen enough nature documentaries for this.'

  He waited.

  And listened.

  The forest was alive with small sounds.

  Wind brushing leaves.

  Branches creaking.

  Something moving quietly through the undergrowth.

  Jackson’s eyes narrowed.

  There.

  A faint rustle near a fallen log.

  He moved slowly, careful not to make sudden movements.

  Another rustle.

  Then a small shape hopped into view.

  A rabbit.

  Jackson stared.

  The rabbit stared back.

  For a moment, neither moved.

  'Well.'

  'This is awkward.'

  Then the rabbit turned slightly.

  Jackson moved.

  It wasn’t elegant.

  It wasn’t graceful.

  But it worked.

  A few minutes later, Jackson returned to the clearing.

  Victoria looked up from the fire.

  Her expression immediately froze.

  Jackson held up the rabbit.

  “I got dinner.”

  Victoria blinked.

  Once.

  Twice.

  “…You were gone for less than ten minutes.”

  Jackson looked down at the rabbit.

  “…Beginner’s luck again?”

  Victoria slowly leaned back slightly, studying him as though he had just revealed another unexpected layer.

  “You claim to know ‘a bit’ about everything, yet somehow succeed regardless.”

  Jackson crouched near the fire.

  “That’s a generous interpretation.”

  He set the rabbit down near the edge of the clearing and picked up a sharp piece of stone he had set aside earlier while building the fire pit.

  Victoria’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  “What are you doing?”

  Jackson hesitated.

  “Oh. Right.”

  He gestured vaguely toward the rabbit.

  “Preparing it.”

  Victoria did not look reassured.

  Jackson picked the rabbit up again and knelt beside the firelight where he could see clearly.

  'Okay… you’ve never actually done this before.'

  'But you have seen it done.'

  Documentaries.

  Survival videos.

  A couple of questionable internet guides he once watched out of curiosity.

  'Step one… I think…'

  He positioned the rabbit carefully and used the sharp stone to cut across the neck.

  Victoria’s eyes widened slightly.

  A small line of blood darkened the ground as Jackson held the rabbit steady.

  Victoria turned her head away for a moment.

  “…Good heavens.”

  Her voice carried a mix of surprise and discomfort.

  Jackson focused on his work.

  'Bleed it first.'

  He waited a moment before setting the rabbit down again.

  The fire crackled softly beside them, illuminating the scene with warm but merciless clarity.

  Victoria slowly looked back.

  Her brows knit together as she watched him.

  “You appear disturbingly calm.”

  Jackson shrugged.

  “Panicking wouldn’t help.”

  “That is not the part I find disturbing.”

  He didn’t ask which part she meant.

  Instead, he made a careful incision along the rabbit’s underside.

  Victoria’s expression shifted immediately.

  “Oh.”

  She straightened slightly.

  “Oh no.”

  Jackson worked carefully, pulling the skin back the way he vaguely remembered seeing it done before.

  It was messy.

  Not elegant.

  But effective.

  Victoria pressed a hand lightly over her mouth.

  “You are… removing its… organs.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Yep.”

  She looked both fascinated and horrified at the same time.

  “I was not aware survival required such… intimacy with one’s meal.”

  Jackson glanced up briefly.

  “It usually does.”

  Victoria took a slow breath and forced herself to keep watching, though her posture stiffened with every motion.

  “You do realize,” she said slowly, “that most nobles simply hire cooks.”

  “Yeah,” Jackson said.

  “Currently unavailable.”

  He finished cleaning the rabbit as best as he could with what little water they had and trimmed away what he didn’t need.

  Victoria’s expression gradually shifted from shock to something closer to reluctant respect.

  “…You are surprisingly competent at unpleasant tasks.”

  Jackson stood up, holding the prepared meat.

  “I prefer to think of it as practical.”

  He found a sturdy stick and carefully skewered the rabbit through the center.

  Moments later, the meat was held over the fire.

  The smell of roasting meat slowly began to spread through the clearing.

  Victoria relaxed slightly now that the more graphic portion of the process had ended.

  “I must admit,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap, “I did not expect my traveling companion to be capable of butchery.”

  Jackson rotated the stick slowly.

  “Neither did I.”

  Victoria studied him again.

  “You continue to surprise me, Jackson Alistair Vale.”

  He gave a small half-smile.

  “Good surprises or bad ones?”

  Victoria considered that carefully.

  “…Undetermined.”

  The rabbit slowly browned over the fire.

  Fat dripped into the flames with quiet hisses, sending the scent of cooked meat drifting into the night air.

  Eventually Jackson pulled it away from the fire.

  “I think it’s done.”

  Victoria looked at the roasted rabbit.

  Then at Jackson.

  Then back at the rabbit.

  “…We are truly eating that.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Unless you’d prefer starvation.”

  Victoria sighed dramatically, though her curiosity clearly won over her hesitation.

  Jackson tore off a piece and handed it to her.

  She held it delicately, as though it were some strange and unfamiliar object.

  “This is the most undignified meal I have ever experienced.”

  Jackson bit into his portion.

  “Tastes fine though.”

  Victoria hesitated.

  Then slowly took a bite.

  She paused.

  Her expression changed.

  “…It is acceptable.”

  Jackson smirked slightly.

  High praise from Lady Victoria Valencrest.

  They continued eating beside the fire, the quiet forest stretching endlessly around them.

  The last of the rabbit disappeared quickly.

  Jackson finished his portion with little ceremony, tossing the cleaned bones into the fire where they crackled softly among the embers. The warmth of the flames had settled comfortably into the clearing, pushing back the chill of the night air.

  Victoria wiped her fingers carefully using a small handkerchief she had retrieved from somewhere within her belongings.

  She looked mildly disturbed by the entire experience.

  “This,” she said with quiet dignity, “is the most unconventional dinner I have ever endured.”

  Jackson leaned back slightly, stretching his arms.

  “You survived though.”

  “That was never in doubt.”

  She folded the handkerchief neatly before placing it away again.

  “However,” she added with clear irritation, “there remains a far more pressing problem.”

  Jackson glanced over.

  “Oh?”

  Victoria brushed a strand of her long blonde hair over her shoulder, her expression tightening.

  “I have not bathed.”

  Jackson blinked.

  “…Right.”

  Victoria gestured vaguely at herself as if the problem should be self-evident.

  “I have been traveling all day. Through dust. Through forest paths. Through—” she paused with visible discomfort, “—animal preparation.”

  Jackson nodded slowly.

  “Yeah.”

  Victoria stared at him.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  Her blue eyes narrowed.

  “Where exactly am I expected to bathe?”

  Jackson looked around the dark forest.

  Trees.

  Grass.

  More trees.

  “I’m going to guess there isn’t a luxury bathhouse nearby.”

  Victoria’s expression darkened instantly.

  “That was not amusing.”

  Jackson held up a hand.

  “Relax. We’ll find a river tomorrow.”

  Victoria paused.

  “…A river.”

  “Yeah.”

  She seemed to weigh the concept.

  It was clearly not her ideal solution.

  But it was better than nothing.

  After a long moment, she sighed in defeat.

  “…Very well.”

  Jackson gave a small nod.

  “Problem solved.”

  Victoria did not look convinced that the problem was solved at all, but she said nothing further.

  The fire had burned lower now, the flames shrinking into glowing embers.

  Jackson stood and stretched again.

  “Alright.”

  Victoria looked up.

  “What now?”

  Jackson glanced around their small campsite.

  “Now it’s time to sleep.”

  Victoria blinked slowly.

  “…Sleep.”

  “Yeah.”

  She looked down at the ground.

  Then at the trees.

  Then back at him.

  “You mean here.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “Yep.”

  Victoria’s expression became one of pure disbelief.

  “You intend for me to lie down… on the ground.”

  Jackson pointed at the relatively cleared patch of grass near the fire.

  “Technically it’s grass.”

  Victoria stared at it as if it had personally insulted her.

  “This is barbaric.”

  Jackson had already lowered himself onto the ground, folding one arm behind his head.

  “Welcome to traveling.”

  Victoria watched him settle down with an alarming level of ease.

  Within seconds, his breathing had already started slowing.

  She frowned.

  “…You cannot possibly fall asleep that quickly.”

  Jackson’s voice came lazily.

  “Watch me.”

  Silence followed.

  A few moments later, his breathing deepened further.

  Victoria stared at him.

  “…Unbelievable.”

  The forest remained quiet around them.

  The fire crackled softly.

  Victoria looked down again at the patch of ground beside the fire.

  She sighed.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she lowered herself to the grass, keeping as much dignity in the action as physically possible.

  “This is temporary,” she muttered to herself.

  The firelight flickered gently between the trees.

  And not long after, even Lady Victoria Celestine Valencrest—one of the most feared noblewomen in high society—eventually drifted off to sleep beneath the open sky.