Heena forced herself to calm down, taking several deep, measured breaths to prevent herself from doing something violent and regrettable inside a moving carriage.

When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled but cold:

"Anyway. You need to get out. Right now."

Samuel looked at her with that same infuriating, serene smile and said pleasantly, "Definitely not."

Heena’s eye twitched. "What the HELL did you just say?"

Samuel reached into a compartment beside him and pulled out a wooden bottle of water. He offered it to her with the gentle concern of a devoted spouse and said:

"Wife, drink some water first. It’s not good for your health to be so angry. Your face is getting flushed."

Heena snatched the water bottle from him—because yes, she WAS thirsty after that chili assault on her taste buds—but she glared at him while drinking.

She set the bottle down forcefully and said, "Listen to me very carefully. I am TELLING you to get lost. Leave this carriage. Now."

Samuel smiled wider. "No."

"Samuel—"

"The carriage is moving at considerable speed," Samuel pointed out reasonably. "If I ’got lost’ as you so charmingly put it, I would likely be injured. Possibly killed. I don’t think you want my death on your conscience, do you, wife?"

Heena’s hands clenched into fists. "You planned this. You’ve been planning this the entire time."

"I have no idea what you mean," Samuel said with utterly unconvincing innocence. "I simply happened to need to travel in the same direction as you. What a fortunate coincidence."

"COINCIDENCE?!" Heena’s voice rose despite her attempts at control. "You were hiding in MY carriage for THREE HOURS! That’s not coincidence, that’s STALKING!"

"Such harsh words," Samuel said, looking wounded. "I prefer to think of it as ’ensuring my wife’s safety during her travels.’"

Heena pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I never invited you! I specifically told you I was leaving ALONE!"

"Mm, yes, you did say that," Samuel agreed. "But you see, I realized something important over the past six days."

"What?" Heena demanded.

Samuel’s expression became more serious, though his smile remained.

"You never actually asked me for a divorce. You said you wanted to leave, yes. But you never formally requested to dissolve our marriage."

Heena opened her mouth, then closed it. He... he had a point. Technically.

"So technically," Samuel continued, "we are still husband and wife. And what kind of husband would I be if I let my wife travel to dangerous places without protection?"

"I can protect MYSELF—"

"Oh, I’m quite aware of that," Samuel interrupted smoothly. "But it’s the principle of the matter. Appearances. What would people say if they discovered I let my wife travel alone? They’d call me a negligent, uncaring husband."

"I don’t CARE what people say—"

"But I do," Samuel said firmly. "My reputation as a devoted spouse is very important to me."

Heena stared at him, genuinely at a loss for how to respond to this absolutely insane logic.

The System, who had been watching this exchange in silent horror, finally spoke up in her mind:

*Host... I think you might have underestimated just how unhinged this man is.*

*You THINK?!* Heena thought back furiously. *He’s been hiding in my carriage for THREE HOURS! Who DOES that?!*

*Someone very determined not to lose you,* the System observed.

*Not helping!*

Heena turned back to Samuel and tried a different approach.

"Look," she said, forcing her voice to be calm and reasonable. "I appreciate your... concern. But where I’m going, you cannot follow. It’s complicated. There are family matters that—"

"Don’t concern me?" Samuel finished. "Perhaps. But as your husband, your family matters ARE my concern. That’s how marriage works."

Heena was utterly, bone-deep tired.

She simply didn’t have the energy to argue with him anymore. Letting out a long, heavy sigh, she shifted uncomfortably in the small, rattling carriage, curling her knees to her chest as she closed her eyes against the swaying motion.

Samuel watched her for a moment. Without a word, he adjusted his robes, patted his lap, and gently tried to guide her over. "You shouldn’t sleep like that," he murmured smoothly. "The roads are rough. If the carriage jolts, you’re going to hit your head against the wall."

Heena just scoffed. She stubbornly pulled away from his reach, shifting her weight to lean directly against the solid wooden side of the carriage. "Stop spouting nonsense," she muttered, closing her eyes again.

*THWACK.*

Not even two seconds later, the carriage wheel struck a massive rut in the dirt road. The entire cabin violently jolted, and Heena’s head slammed directly into the hard wooden paneling.

"Ow!" Heena hissed, immediately grabbing the side of her head. It throbbed fiercely, a dull ache blooming right where the wood had connected with her skull.

She turned slowly, glaring daggers at the man sitting across from her. "Laugh if you want," she growled.

Samuel didn’t laugh. His face remained a mask of perfect, innocent concern, though his dark eyes gleamed with a suspicious amount of amusement. "Why would I laugh?" he asked softly, his tone entirely too gentle. "You are in pain. I’m just worried about you."

He might have been holding it together, but her digital companion certainly wasn’t.

*[AHAHAHAHA!]* the System howled in her mind, practically rolling on the metaphorical floor. *[Oh, my code! He warned you! He literally warned you two seconds ago! Look at you, so strong, so independent, getting beaten up by a piece of wood!]*

Heena gritted her teeth, her hands twitching with the overwhelming desire to reach into her own brain and choke the System to death.

"Whatever. *Whatever*," she muttered, finally waving a hand in defeat.

She couldn’t win this battle of attrition today. This wasn’t the modern era where you could hop on a bullet train or a plane and cross the country in a few hours. They were traveling by horse-drawn carriage, and even moving at maximum speed, it was still going to take them five to six grueling days just to reach the capital. If she didn’t sleep properly now, her body would be entirely useless by the time they arrived.

Swallowing her pride, Heena shifted across the small space and reluctantly laid her head down on Samuel’s lap. It was, annoyingly, infinitely more comfortable than the wooden wall.

Samuel’s hand immediately moved to her hair, his long fingers gently massaging the spot where she had bumped her head. The rhythmic, soothing motion made her eyes flutter shut despite her best efforts to stay vigilant.

But before she completely surrendered to sleep, she opened her eyes one last time, looking up at him with a stern, warning glare.

"Remember," she stated firmly, establishing her verbal boundaries even as she lay comfortably across his lap. "You are not my husband anymore."

Samuel’s smile was warm, indulgent, and entirely unbothered by her technicalities. He just continued to stroke her hair.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied softly. "Just rest first."

The journey dragged on, a grueling, monotonous blur of rattling wooden wheels and endless dusty roads.

Every evening, they stopped at what the locals generously referred to as "inns"—though, in reality, they were little more than cramped, drafty rooms featuring lumpy mattresses stuffed with coarse hay. As they finally drew closer to the capital, the accommodations gradually improved, transforming from dingy roadside taverns into respectable, multi-story hotels with actual hot water.