As it turned out, Kazriel had more uses than shaming her goddess and streaking through the woods stark naked. A piece of parchment with fake noble lineage and documentation looked completely passable.
Rosemarie had been given a great deal of coin from her sisters in order to compensate for the clothing she was forced to buy. Not only was her attire not worthy of a peasant to wear, but it was not suited for a man either. Hair had been chopped off to assume a more masculine role and her chest was bound tight with strips of cloth to flatten. She had to feign a deeper and more gruff voice as well which had taken a great deal of practice. Her sisters had laughed at the attempts until she finally was able to make it sound decent without trying too hard to keep it as such. Her throat hurt because talking that way wasn't natural, but she couldn't risk being found out.
It wouldn't have been intelligent for her to go to the Kingdom of Lenore nor did it bode well for her to take her travels to Jovan. Kalawna was more of an elven territory and she had already been through Florand and George had been there as had Brom. They had likely surveyed the area already. Anything north of Kalawna would take forever to get to. The closest and safest bet for her was Kuzma, she figured. Even if her destination took four or five months to reach, she was prepared for it at the very least.
The majority of the coin she had been given wasn't spent and wouldn't be until she even reached Kuzma. Hunting, skinning, and cooking her meals was easy enough. A hobby of sculpting figurines and pieces for necklaces had been picked up on the isle and was one of the many things Quendeu had taught her during her stay. The bones of the game she caught and ate were crafted into stuff and peddled to those she passed on the road or saved until she reached the point.
The long and arduous journey eventually reached its end. New clothing was purchased and she continued to keep her hair short. It had taken a while, but during the journey she had grown used to the change of length. She had grown used to wearing breeches instead of a skirt as well and began to find the attire more comfortable and practical. It was good she had walked the whole way though. Her legs were built up more and she did not want to be caught toying with her shortened hair or fidgeting with the fabric of her breeches because it felt so strange.
Rosemarie had been given a great deal of coin from her sisters in order to compensate for the clothing she was forced to buy. Not only was her attire not worthy of a peasant to wear, but it was not suited for a man either. Hair had been chopped off to assume a more masculine role and her chest was bound tight with strips of cloth to flatten. She had to feign a deeper and more gruff voice as well which had taken a great deal of practice. Her sisters had laughed at the attempts until she finally was able to make it sound decent without trying too hard to keep it as such. Her throat hurt because talking that way wasn't natural, but she couldn't risk being found out.
It wouldn't have been intelligent for her to go to the Kingdom of Lenore nor did it bode well for her to take her travels to Jovan. Kalawna was more of an elven territory and she had already been through Florand and George had been there as had Brom. They had likely surveyed the area already. Anything north of Kalawna would take forever to get to. The closest and safest bet for her was Kuzma, she figured. Even if her destination took four or five months to reach, she was prepared for it at the very least.
The majority of the coin she had been given wasn't spent and wouldn't be until she even reached Kuzma. Hunting, skinning, and cooking her meals was easy enough. A hobby of sculpting figurines and pieces for necklaces had been picked up on the isle and was one of the many things Quendeu had taught her during her stay. The bones of the game she caught and ate were crafted into stuff and peddled to those she passed on the road or saved until she reached the point.
The long and arduous journey eventually reached its end. New clothing was purchased and she continued to keep her hair short. It had taken a while, but during the journey she had grown used to the change of length. She had grown used to wearing breeches instead of a skirt as well and began to find the attire more comfortable and practical. It was good she had walked the whole way though. Her legs were built up more and she did not want to be caught toying with her shortened hair or fidgeting with the fabric of her breeches because it felt so strange.