Everyone had always insisted that formal clothes were terribly uncomfortable, but to be honest, falser words had never been spoken before.

  I couldn’t certainly claim any special insight on the matter, nor could I say I had worn many, but the few I had tried had all been fairly comfortable.

  Of course, they couldn’t hold a candle against everyday clothes, but once you got used to them, they weren’t so bad.

  If I ever tried sword-fighting with this thing on, it would rip apart in an instant. But then again, fencing in formal wear would be like bringing a trombone to a climbing contest.

  Who in the world would do that?

  I stood in front of the mirror, taking a quick inspection of myself. It had always been more of a decoration than anything since I rarely used it.

  Watch out, ladies, I chuckled, striking a few playful poses. A dangerous heart-stealing creature has appeared.

  The black fabric made me look slimmer and taller than I already was, but it also subtly highlighted the muscles I had built over this past year of training.

  If I had to guess, Mother had likely chosen the color; she was the one with the best eye for color combinations in the family. As usual, she had nailed it.

  Paired with a short white tunic, without much flourishes or embellishments, the black outfit made my light blue eyes stand out even more, as well as the white strands hidden among my dark hair.

  Too bad I’m not allowed to carry a sword at my side, it would’ve completed the look perfectly, I sighed.

  According to my father, I could only wear a weapon once he deemed me ready. Just as his father had done before him, and his grandfather before that.

  Some kind of old family tradition. There was no arguing with him about it.

  Since I had woken up early, I could afford to take my time preparing what to bring away with me.

  Aside from clothes and the essentials for staying in Ardelar for three days, I packed only books, including the Ars Incantandi.

  With nothing else coming to mind, I grabbed a suitcase that was probably way too heavy for such a short trip and stuffed everything inside it before heading outside.

  In the garden, a large carriage was already waiting, ready to leave. A few attendants were busy loading luggage onto it.

  The carriage was indeed more spacious than what was probably needed, since it had to carry only five people. At a glance, it seemed like it could fit a couple more without issue.

  Other than that, it looked fairly modest.

  It certainly wasn’t one of those flashy golden carriages, covered in ridiculous embellishments and engraved decorations you could spot during parades.

  My master, Baryon, was already there. As I approached, I saw him chatting casually with the driver.

  I had always thought of him as an introvert like me, but apparently, never had I been more wrong.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “You’re early today. How unusual for you,” he remarked.

  You all have so much faith in my ability to be on time, huh? I grumbled internally.

  “People can change, Baryon,” I replied, mildly irritated by the tease.

  “Come on now, don’t pout that easily. Here, let me introduce you—this is Johannes, the coachman who will be taking us on this journey,” he said, nodding at the man he had been speaking with. Johannes greeted me with a polite bow.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Johannes,” I responded, returning the bow. “I’m Arda, a student of Baryon’s. I’ll be in your care for the trip.”

  “Pleasure’s mine, young master. I hope to return the trust your family has placed in me with a smooth journey,” he replied warmly.

  His voice carried cheerful confidence; he exuded a comforting and reliable presence, despite him looking much younger than he probably was.

  He had very sharp brown eyes that looked almost carved in his lean face. He kept his golden hair trim and fairly short. Upon a closer inspection, one could hardly notice his hair tips had long turned white.

  “Do you expect the trip to be difficult?” I genuinely asked.

  Having never been to Ardelar before, I had no idea what the journey would be like.

  “Not at all, young master,” Johannes answered, patting one of the horses’ backs. “Thankfully, since we’re departing from Navar, the route should be fairly easy. I was just discussing it with your master.

  “The roads we’ll be traveling on are all in good condition, and there shouldn’t be any particular obstacles along the way. You can rest easy. It’ll be a simple and pleasant trip,” he concluded.

  His confidence was indeed reassuring, but at the same time, his words had the feeling of what people often called “ominous last words.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if everything would have gone as smoothly as he claimed.

  “How come you’re awake already?” A voice cut in from the distance.

  My parents were accompanied by Lelya, all dressed in a comfortable travel attire. It seemed like I was the only one wearing formal clothes.

  “I see someone couldn’t wait to wear their new suit, huh?” Mother immediately noticed.

  “This isn’t exactly what I consider the best occasion to show it off, but I’m glad you liked it. You’re in for… an interesting, comfortable journey,” my father added with a chuckle, unable to resist making one of his “constructive criticisms”.

  Criticism, my ass. He just enjoys teasing me, I grumbled.

  “It looks great on you, young master,” Lelya tried to cheer me up.

  “Thanks, Lelya,” I sighed, appreciating her attempt.

  Luckily for me, Baryon found a solution to circumvent the problem using some kind of spell he improvised on the moment.

  According to him, the spell would make the outfit comfortable for the entire journey. I didn’t even know spells like that existed, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one.

  Now, my mother was trying to convince him to teach the spell to her as well. My teacher was utterly embarrassed.

  His desperate attempts to explain that, by contract, he could only be teaching magic to his students were tumbling one after another.

  His face was turning pale, like someone who knew well enough they were grasping at straws.

  My mother was definitely going to get him to give in.

  With a playful look, my mother absentmindedly twirled her snow-white hair around her finger, giving him the same puppy eyes I spent almost thirteen years trying to master. Her blue eyes, just like mine, reflected my teacher’s awkward expression.

  Aye, Mom is indeed unbeatable, I chuckled to myself.

  Aside from these little awkward moments, the journey was proceeding calmly, just like Johannes had predicted. I spent the first part of the trip watching our surroundings pass by outside the carriage.

  Every so often, I discussed an interesting tree or flower we had passed by with Lelya, whose botanic knowledge was indeed unexpectedly vast.

  Little by little, I let my eyes wander in the distance and my mind drifted away, lulled by the occasional jolts of the carriage along the road.