The carriage rolled steadily through the dense forests of the Empire, bound for Saxony before crossing into Bohemia. Katarina von Falkenstein sat rigid in her polished armor, the faint clink of metal the only sound aside from the wheels on the dirt road.

The young Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire lifted a silver cup, taking a slow sip before offering it toward her.

She shook her head firmly. “I never drink on the job, Your Majesty. As your personal guard I want to remain sober when it is your life I am to protect.”