The moment we crossed Albertine territory, my bodyguard-cum-imperial knight, Lucas Hartwood, informed, "There is a direct route from here to Rutherford, but we'll be taking a detour."

"Because of the Vedora forest, I suppose?" I inquired.

"Yes," he confirmed. "The southern part of Rutherford is a densely populated forest that extends all the way to the Vedora Ranges."

Of course, I knew this. Although Theodora's adoptive parents' job was not mentioned in the original work 'The Lost Heir's Triumph,' the altered work stated that her parents were hunters. This detail was presumably added to emphasize the fact that Theodora had even cruder manners than commoners and to highlight the transmigrator's superior qualities in comparison to her. Hunters made a living from catching game in forests, and the Vedora forest was the largest in the kingdom, a favorite spot for hunters.

"Isn't there a path cleared in the forest for travelers?" I asked.

"There are paths used by hunters, but none are wide enough for carriages. At most, two or three horses can pass," he replied.

"But why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"Do you wish to take the shortcut to Rutherford? I can buy a horse for you."

Although it was a tempting offer, I had to decline. I had learned horseriding in my previous life, and riding a horse would undoubtedly be at least three times faster than travelling in a carriage. Not to mention, taking the shortcut would allow us to reach Rutherford in two days instead of four. With Sir Hartwood by my side, I wouldn't have to worry about my safety. However, having Gemma with us meant I couldn't afford to take my eyes off my luggage, as it contained too many valuables.

I had brought those valuables with me with the aim of luring Gemma into a trap, but an opportunity had presented itself before I had the chance to do so. It was a little disappointing, but I thought I'd put those valuables to good use later.

"It's fine," I replied. "We'll continue through the route we initially decided."

"Very well."

"The warzone isn't far from Rutherford, is it?" I inquired.

"Around half a day's journey on horse," Sir Hartwood replied.

The north-west warzone had been a fierce battlefield between the forces of our kingdom, Valerion, and the neighboring kingdom of Tyrmere for the past three decades. As we spoke, the Crown Prince of Valerion was fighting tooth and nails for his for his kingdom's sake.

"Have you been there before?" I asked.

"I was stationed there for two years after becoming a knight," Sir Hartwood answered.

"I see."

The approaching victory of the Crown Prince, and the grand parade that would follow through the capital city, was not far off. But before that, I had to ensure Theodora Albertine made a remarkable debut in high society.

As we ventured beyond the borders of Albertine territory, the rugged terrains and bumpy roads exacerbated my motion sickness. However, the small vials of medicine from the innkeeper in Toddler Town provided some relief, and I clung to their comfort like a lifeline.

Days passed, and we pressed forward on our path to Rutherford. The scenery changed with each passing mile. Four days felt like an eternity, but finally, our destination was in sight—Rutherford.

Rutherford proved to be a stark contrast to Albertine. The roads were nothing more than dirt paths, still displaying the aftermath of yesterday's rain with lingering puddles in every direction. Carriages found the journey challenging, making it an unfavorable mode of travel in this rustic town. As we ventured further into Rutherford, it became evident that hunting was the heartbeat of this place, and the townsfolk thrived on it.

Numerous traders lined the streets, eagerly buying the bountiful catch of skilled hunters. The hunters offered various by-products, from hides and horns to sinews and oils extracted from animal glands. These items were particularly sought after, especially among the nobles who indulged in their fascination with such exotic goods.

However, the ambiance didn't sit well with me. The mix of bad roads and the overwhelming scent of raw meat emanating from the bustling town left me feeling extremely queasy. At every turn, my eyes were met with sizable chunks of meat and the eerie sight of animal heads hanging from shopfronts. The air was heavy with the pungent aroma of animal hides being cured and tanned. Not only were there traders of all kinds, but numerous shops selling an array of hunting weapons like bows, arrows, slings, daggers, and traps dotted the streets. Clearly, Baron Rutherford profited handsomely from the thriving trade conditions, yet it seemed he had little interest in investing in the development of his territory.

In conclusion, Rutherford was far from an ideal vacation spot. The question of how I would endure the next few months in this environment lingered in my mind.

In about half an hour, we arrived at our manor in Rutherford. Fortunately, the manor was situated quite a distance from the bustling towns, shielding us from the noise and pungent smells that permeated the area. Although not as grand as the one in the capital city, it had its own charm. A large, well-maintained garden graced the grounds, providing a refreshing contrast to the grim sights of animal heads and bones we had encountered earlier.

As the carriage came to a halt outside the gate, we were greeted by a small group of men patiently waiting for our arrival. Among them was a man in his sixties, who bowed deeply as we disembarked. "We have been eagerly anticipating your arrival, Young Miss," he addressed me with utmost respect.

"And you are?" I inquired.

"Head Butler James, delighted to be in your presence," he replied with a smile.

Head Butler James - the very person the Countess had advised me to investigate. From his appearance and demeanor, he seemed flawless in every aspect. He had impeccable manners and was well-groomed. At first glance, one would hardly suspect him of any wrongdoing. However, I knew better than to let appearances deceive me. There was more to this man than met the eye, and the Countess had paid me 75 gold coins to uncover his secrets.

"Lead the way," I instructed. The butler, James, guided me to the parlor, where an array of tea and refreshments awaited our arrival. The servants James had brought along diligently took care of our luggage under Sir Hartwood's watchful eye.

"How come the Ashbournes have a manor in the middle of nowhere?" I asked. Though I initially suspected it was a fabricated setting by the System to serve my mission's needs, I wanted to know the genuine reason behind it.

"As you know," the butler began, "Valerion has been at war with Tyrmere for almost 30 years. The northwest front is not far from here. The Ashbournes built this mansion 25 years ago to provide a resting place for nobles who were assisting in the war efforts. Due to its hasty construction, the manor is not as grand as the one in the capital, and the accommodations are modest."

"I see. When was the last time we had a guest?" I inquired further.

"Marchioness Harrington stayed here for a few months. I was informed that she played a crucial role in advancing our troops. She left a month ago," James replied, revealing the connection between the Countess and the Marchioness.

Ah, Marchioness Harrington, a friend of Countess Ashbourne. I wondered if she was the one who voiced her suspicions about Butler James.

With refreshments concluded, my attention turned to the coachman, a chubby and nervous middle-aged man who seemed to be perspiring profusely. Despite his apprehensive appearance, he proved to be adept at his job and had loyally served the Ashbourne family for the past decade.

"When are you leaving?" I asked him directly.

"Wh-whenever you want, M-Miss," he stammered.

"Stay the night, and leave after breakfast tomorrow."

"Yes, Miss," he quickly responded, visibly relieved by the prospect of some respite.

With that matter settled, I rose from my seat and allowed James to guide me to my room.

"We've prepared a bath for you, Miss. It's just a short distance from your room," he informed me.

“Alright.”

Suddenly, James recalled something and added, "Ah, I almost forgot, a mail arrived for you a couple of hours ago."

"From who? My parents?" I asked, an eyebrow raised.

"No, it was from Lord William Albertine."