Jane finalized her preparations in a haze. She was on autopilot as she finished dressing and bolted down a few bites of breakfast without tasting it. On autopilot as she took her leave of the king and queen, and tried to soothe Lavinia, who was absolutely spitting mad that her brother was being included in the march and she wasn't. She was only two years younger, and had been in training for the same amount of time he had – it was NOT FAIR!

She was even on autopilot as she said farewell to her parents and friends. Pepper's many tears didn't manage to snap her out of it, nor even did the single one, rare as a jewel, on her mother's cheek.

She didn't really come out of it until they were miles down the road. She blinked and shook herself, slightly surprised to find herself astride her horse, riding along with the company, when her last clear memory was of Gunther slamming their chamber door.

She couldn't wrap her mind around it. Had that really happened? Had he really tried to order her to stay behind like some… some… docile little housewife? Had he really betrayed her that way?

She looked around, bemused, like someone waking from a dream. She couldn't see him. With some hundred and twenty other people in the company, she could probably avoid seeing him for the entire march, if she tried. This thought hurt her heart.

The fact that it was accompanied by a sense of relief hurt it far more.

What happened now? They were supposed to face adversity together! As upset as she'd been about the whole situation right from the moment the girl had arrived, she had never in her wildest dreams anticipated that it would impact her relationship with Gunther this way. She felt lost, completely adrift. She had no idea how to cope, what to do.

Put it aside. Put it aside for now, You cannot go down this route right now. You have to focus on what is going on around you. You have to focus on the task at hand.

Yes, that was right. She couldn't allow herself to get bogged down in this… this… no. Just no. She had to pull herself together, for the moment anyway. Once Dragon caught up with them, she could pour her heart out to him. Caradoc had been amenable to the idea of Dragon going along this time – not that it would have deterred Dragon even if the king had said no.

Caradoc had only asked that, because he could cover distance so much more quickly than horses, Dragon delay his departure so as to catch up with the company once they'd reached the outskirts of the forest, and preferably under cover of darkness. This would preserve any advantage of surprise that might exist if, in fact, Broadcloak and his men were ignorant of Dragon's existence.

Even if they had spies posted along the way keeping tabs on the company's progress, this way the outlaws would be unaware that Dragon was a member of the king's party.

So if she could just hold it together until Dragon caught them up…

Yes. She seized on that notion almost desperately. She didn't think she'd ever wanted her friend as badly as she did right now, but he'd join them soon. She just had to try to put this out of her mind, and make it until then.

They made their first camp in a sizable clearing beside a small river. Looking around at all the men and horses, Jane truly reflected, for the first time, on the fact that this was the largest military operation she had ever been a part of. She sincerely hoped it was the largest one she'd ever need to be a part of.

She helped with gathering firewood and water to boil. Dusk began to fall, a simple camp supper was being prepared, and the men divided themselves around two dozen or so campfires. Gunther was still nowhere to be seen and Jane was in the midst of a fierce internal debate over whether to seek him out or not, when a young man approached her to say that Sir Theodore was requesting her presence in the command tent.

Certainly Gunther would be there too, so the decision was removed from her shoulders. As she approached the command tent – easy to find because it was the only tent – she was unsure how she felt about this. Then she ducked inside and there was no more time to ruminate; there he was.

She swept him with her eyes; he looked tired and grim. So did Sir Theodore for that matter, and most likely, she thought fleetingly, so did she.

She tried to catch his eye, but couldn't. He glanced her way when she entered, and his jawline tightened even further, but he refuted her attempt at actual eye contact, looking quickly away again.

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Was it really going to be this way?

The whole time?

Gunther!

Quite suddenly her throat was constricted and her eyes were burning. She swallowed hard, blinked hard, and focused her attention solely on Sir Theodore. At least there was very little to discuss; the day's march had been more or less entirely uneventful. No enemy spies, scouts or outriders had been encountered. It was a very brief council session, and Jane, being closest to the tent flap, slipped out the moment it was over.

She told herself angrily that if Gunther called her name she wouldn't even turn around. She had no opportunity to test her resolve on the matter, though, because he never did.

Bundling her bedroll under her arm, she first checked on Cuthbert and then searched the campfires until she found Smithy. He was the only one of her castle friends to be along on the march; with so many men, horses, and weapons involved in this venture, his expertise was essential. His size and strength would make him a valuable combatant too, in a pinch – although he'd promised his frantic wife that he wouldn't fight unless he absolutely had to.

"Can I join you?" she asked, dropping her armful of bedding beside him, exhaustedly.

His eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline as he asked, simply and without artifice, "are you all right?"

"No," she said flatly, folding herself into a sitting position next to him. She didn't elaborate – and he didn't press her. He just made room for her to lay out her bedroll, and handed her a dish of food when she was done.

She ate apathetically, without tasting anything. She probably would have set the dish aside after just a couple of bites, but she knew that Smithy was watching her closely, for all that he wasn't pressuring her to talk. So she finished her supper, rolled herself in her blankets, and sank into sleep, thankful for her friend's solid warmth beside her, thankful for his murmured "goodnight" although she didn't return it.

Sleep claimed her too fast.