Aegon and Arya walked through the mountain woods for another day and night.
As the eastern sky turned pale, they finally spotted a dirt road packed firm by passing feet, winding through the gaps between the trees toward the foot of the mountains.
Arya brightened, and her steps grew much lighter.
The corners of Aegon's mouth lifted slightly. At last, he would no longer have to fill his belly with those sour, astringent wild fruits.
They followed the dirt road for another half day. The dense forest gradually receded, giving way to stretches of golden wheat fields.
A breeze swept past, sending waves rolling through the golden wheat.
The dirt road grew wider and wider, until two carts could travel abreast.
They pressed on, and signs of habitation finally appeared ahead: a small town built against a hill, its houses stretching from the foot to halfway up the slope. They could just make out people moving along its streets.
A red castle stood atop the hill, glowing warmly in the afternoon sun.
Aegon let out a long breath. "Finally, we can find a tavern and have a meal."
He took two steps, then suddenly realized no footsteps were following him.
He looked back and found Arya standing motionless where she was.
Aegon walked back to her. "What's wrong?"
Arya hemmed and hawed, unable to offer an explanation.
She could hardly tell him she had just escaped from the Eyrie and had no idea whether it had sent orders for her arrest to the nobles of the Vale.
She feared that the moment she entered this town, someone would recognize her and drag her back.
Her gaze drifted toward the red castle on the distant hill, then quickly flicked away.
Aegon noticed where she had looked.
He did not press her.