Please

On the public road leading from Fran City to Carnford, a scene of bustling construction is underway.

The engineering corps under Earl Rochefort, along with a large number of conscripted citizens, are working diligently along the planned route.

They first cleared away the topsoil, then compacted the foundation with huge stone rammers. The road surface was specially shaped into an arc with the middle slightly lower than the sides, so that rainwater could be quickly drained into the roadside ditches.

Next, the workers filled the bottom layer with large quarried rocks, then filled the gaps with smaller gravel, and finally covered it with fine sand or crushed pottery shards to increase density.

Finally, the smooth, square bluestone slabs, carefully polished by the stonemasons, were meticulously laid one by one to form a sturdy and durable road surface.

Along both sides of the road, drainage ditches have been dug, and at intervals, engineers are building simple stone and wood outposts, which currently serve as temporary rest stops for messengers and patrols.

The clanging, shouts, and rubbing of stones mingled together, creating a vibrant atmosphere of labor.

Suddenly, an officer on lookout duty blew a sharp brass whistle and shouted, "All personnel cease operations! Move to the side! Kneel in welcome!"

Instantly, all the noise disappeared.

The engineers and civilians immediately put down their tools and turned around to look. In the distance, they saw a large and magnificent honor guard slowly walking along the newly paved and still smooth stone road.

They quickly retreated to both sides of the road, knelt down on one knee in unison, bowed their heads deeply, and dared not look directly ahead.

The bustling construction site fell silent, with only the mournful sound of the wind howling across the open fields remaining.

At the very front of the procession were two teams of over a hundred Royal Knights, clad in gleaming breastplates and wearing plumed helmets.

They rode identical tall white horses, carrying long lances, with swallowtail banners fluttering in the wind beneath their lance tips, embroidered with the dazzling Broomflower Royal Family of arms, a golden bird poised for flight.

The knights had stern faces and sharp eyes, displaying impeccable discipline and majesty.

Following closely behind was the Imperial Musicians. Although they were not playing music at this moment, the gilded horns and magnificent War Drum they carried still showcased the noble grandeur of the royal family.

Next comes the core vehicle.

A dozen or so exquisitely decorated carriages lined up in a row, their shafts and bodies carved with intricate patterns and inlaid with gold metal ornaments, and their windows draped with thick silk curtains embroidered with gold thread.

Especially the enormous carriage in the center, pulled by eight pure white horses, was like a small, mobile palace, resplendent and magnificent.

The carriage was followed by more Court Guards, maids, servants, and a convoy of heavy trunks carrying the Princess's dowry and royal gifts.

The entire procession stretched for hundreds of meters, with flags waving and armor gleaming.

The commoners kneeling on both sides of the road, though mindful of the rules and not daring to raise their heads, still had some bold young men who couldn't help but secretly peek up, their eyes filled with awe and curiosity as they quickly glanced at this grand scene they had never seen before, their hearts brimming with boundless imagination about the distant Royal Capital and royal life.

Inside the most luxurious carriage, Princess Louise was quietly gazing outside through a tiny gap in the heavy curtains.

She saw those kneeling figures, as insignificant as ants, and also caught glimpses of those furtive glances, a mixture of curiosity and awe.

She gently closed the curtains, shutting out everything from the outside world.

The carriage was dimly lit and filled with the subtle scent of expensive incense, yet it made her feel somewhat suffocated.

The cold voice of Mr. Albert, the butler personally appointed by Empress Dowager Katerina, came from outside the carriage. "Your Her Highness the Princess, please do not frequently lift the curtain, lest the wind and sand disturb the royal dignity."

Louise did not respond, but simply curled up silently on the chair covered with thick velvet cushions.

She had never experienced such a long journey before. The bumpy ride over several days, even though the carriage had done its best to reduce the shock, still made her feel dizzy and nauseous.

The carriages in the palace only travel on flat stone roads; they have never suffered such hardship.

Just then, the carriage suddenly jolted violently, as if the wheels had rolled from the smooth stone road onto a rough dirt road.

Louise nearly slipped off her seat, but was caught in time by her personal maid Alice. A strong feeling of nausea instantly rose in her throat.

Outside the carriage, Albert's emotionless voice rang out again. "Your Her Highness the Princess, we have left the completed road section and are now on the original roads within Carnford, which will be quite bumpy. Please bear with us; we will arrive soon."

Louise's face grew even paler. Fighting back the urge to vomit, she whispered in a trembling, pleading voice, "Mr. Albert, I... I really feel terrible. Could you... stop for a moment, let me get some fresh air... just for a little while..."

Albert outside paused for a moment, then refused in an even colder, more impatient tone. "Your Highness, the journey is urgent and cannot be delayed. Lord Carnford is surely waiting. Please hold on a little longer."

Louise closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, and said nothing more.

She had long understood that once she left the palace in Prye City and lost her father's protection, she, the so-called Princess, was nothing in the eyes of these "guardians" sent by the Eisenberg Family.

Her requests, her feelings, were insignificant.

What bothered her more than the physical dizziness and nausea was the boundless sorrow and loneliness in her heart.

She thought of her deceased biological mother, the gentle but sickly Former Queen.

If her mother were still alive, she would have held her tightly in her arms and would never have let her suffer like this, much less have let her be married off like a gift to this strange and desolate land...

Thinking of this, she could no longer hold back her scalding tears, which silently streamed down her pale, smooth cheeks.

"Your Highness, please don't cry..." When the maid Alice saw the Princess shed tears, her own eyes instantly reddened.

She quickly took out a silk handkerchief and carefully wiped away the Princess's tears, her voice choked with sobs, "Please take care of yourself. We'll be there soon. Maybe... maybe Lord Karl is a good man..."

Louise let Alice wipe away her tears, but only shook her head helplessly.

A good man? What could she possibly hope for in a man she'd never met, a man to be her husband simply because of a royal Imperial Edict?

In the torrent of fate, she was merely a small boat adrift, unable to control its direction, left to be carried by the waves to an unknown and uncertain shore.

The train continued its bumpy journey along the rugged road, seemingly without end.