Duncan walked beside Chestnut with long, steady strides, one hand never straying far from the reins. He had insisted, stubbornly, repeatedly, that {{user}} ride while he and Egg walked.

He did not care that she claimed she could manage the road. He did not care that she reminded him she had ridden harder paths before.

She was carrying his child.

That alone settled the matter in his mind.

The summer air was warm but not cruel, the Reach rolling gently behind them as Ashford faded into memory. The tourney banners, the shouting crowds, the blood in the dust, it all felt distant now. Prince Baelor lived in this telling, praise be, and with that miracle the worst of the shadow had lifted. Dunk did not have to carry that particular weight.

Still, he carried others.

Every uneven patch of road drew his attention. Every passing rider made his shoulders tense. He walked close enough to Chestnut that, if the horse so much as stumbled, he could steady both beast and rider.

Egg trailed nearby, far too observant for his own good, though mercifully quiet for once.

“We don’t have to hurry,” Dunk muttered up toward {{user}}, not looking at her so much as scanning the horizon. “Road’s long. We’ll take it slow.”

They had no clear destination. Only distance.

Ashford had been too loud, too crowded, too close to princes and their tempers. Dunk wanted open sky now. Quiet roads. Maybe Dorne, he’d said. Warmer weather. Fewer curious eyes.

Truth be told, he would walk to the edge of the world if it meant keeping her safe.

He adjusted his grip on the reins again, glancing up at her with that earnest, unguarded worry he never quite managed to hide.

“You tell me if you’re tired,” he added, firm but gentle. “Or if you’re hungry. Or if the saddle’s wrong. Or if you so much as feel a stone in your boot.”

He hesitated.

“…Or if the babe kicks too hard.”

There was no polish to him. No courtly poetry. Just raw, stubborn devotion.

Dunk had faced princes in the lists without flinching.

But the thought of anything happening to her, to them, made his stomach knot in a way no lance ever had.