Transmigrated into a Fantasy World with No Clue What To Do Chapter 27: Chapter 26: A Foggy Departure / A Fae Warning

Read chapter 27 of Transmigrated into a Fantasy World with No Clue What To Do by PrincessArylin on NovelPedia.

Chapter 26: A Foggy Departure / A Fae Warning The next morning in the predawn hours, I wake, do my usual little in bed stretch, and then notice my unfamiliar surroundings which are still shrouded in darkness. Where am I? Oh, right. The manor in Larkinshire that the mayor is letting us use for our night's stay there. I rub the sleep from my eyes and get off of the bed, realizing that I had managed to fall asleep in my clothes from the previous day. There is a soft knock at the door and a second later it opens. Mary enters and looks at me standing beside the bed in the dark. “Oh. You are awake already, My Lady,” she says, lighting a lamp on the wall near the door. “My apologies for letting you sleep in your garb from yesterday, but Her Grace gave explicit instructions that you were not to be disturbed last night.” “His Grace sent me to get you up and inform you that we are departing in about an hour. I brought you a change of clothes, so let’s get you changed.” She assists me in getting changed and even does my hair in record time. Seeing that I am properly presentable, she nods in satisfaction. “Lady Beira, breakfast will be served soon. Shall I lead you to the dining room?” she says, smiling her usual cheerful smile and I nod. She leads me down to where my parents are already seated and bows to my father before leaving. “Good morning, Father, Mother,” I say and give a proper curtsey, mainly for the benefit of my mother, before taking my seat. A light and simple breakfast of bacon, eggs, and buttered toast with jam is brought out and placed on the table in front of me. Seeing that my parents have already begun eating, I start on my meal as well. Breakfast conversation is surprisingly subdued, the silence thick enough to cut, but before long it is over and I am being loaded into our carriage to continue our journey. Today, we will be turning to the south, heading out of the densely forested lands of my father and into the open plains to the south. I look out the window at the Loch and town below us. It is covered in a thick fog that only the tops of buildings stick out of. The lights of the lamps that line the major thoroughfares can be seen from above giving the town an illusion of being built in the clouds. Were it not for the ship masts rising above the thick layer of fog, I wouldn't even be able to distinguish where the town ends and the Loch begins. As the sun begins to crest over the horizon, the thick blanket takes on a fiery hue, transforming a peaceful cloud into a town swallowed by a sea of fire. It is a beautiful sight. The Duke enters the carriage after speaking to the captain of our guard detail, and taps on the roof as soon as he is settled in beside my mother. The carriage gives an initial jerk before smoothing out and soon we are on our way. We make our way to a large ramp that alternates its direction between north and south as it gradually lowers us to the base of the large cliff and into what I would call the town proper. Where the ramp connects back into the main road through town appears to be dedicated to housing for the citizens of Larkinshire. As we pass through, windows are illuminated in houses. The sounds of parents waking their children can be faintly heard and the smell of food cooking begins to fill the air. As we pull out of the residential area, we turn to the south and onto a now bustling market street. Though the fog is still really dense, and bright from the sun’s early illumination, I can see figures scrambling about to get their stalls and storefronts ready for the day's business. Here and there a few people stop what they are doing to watch our grand procession, some even give a salute when our carriage, the biggest of the group and bearing the largest version of our family crest, passes by. To the ones that salute, my father salutes back, and as if it gives them permission, they end their salutes and get back to what they were doing. It must be a military thing, I muse to myself. When we re