Johnston knew a dismissal when he saw one. Here was the Faesian queen right now, indirectly telling him to get out now.

He bowed yet again. Damnit, but the script he had been given didn't cover what he was meant to do now. "Thank you, Your Majesty." It sounded like the right thing to do, anyway. And generally something that sounded like the right thing to do probably was the right thing.

Without waiting for further prompt - oh, he was not risking anything in this, most of all his neck - he spun on his heel and followed his escort of two Faesian guards out of the throne doors and into the - yet again - red-and-black coated walls.

Damn, but surely the two colours got tiring after a while? The Faesians seemed rather attached to their national colour compared to Galcolia, but then... it surely got tiring after a while, right?

But he followed his escort, with their red-and-black uniforms, through the halls with red-and-black streamers, with so much red and black that he almost began only seeing red and black.

But eventually, after what felt like too long, through the most random and unexpected hallways - how anyone remembered how to get anywhere in that castle, Johnston couldn't figure out - he emerged out of the keep, where his squad was.

His second-in-command looked at him curiously, the paper with his instructions not-so-carefully hidden right in front of him. Johnston sighed - surely they realized they probably needed to keep the paper?

"Captain? What's the verdict?"

Johnston nodded, attempting and miserably failing to smile. "The Queen has given us permission to look for our criminal in these lands, provided we are accompanied by a batallion of Faesian soldiers." A lot was left unsaid - such as they all knew which criminal they were after, having seen him with the princess the other day - and the unspoken implication that he would have to go through Faesian processing facilities before being returned to Galcolia - but, as always, his second-in-command understood.

"Understood, Catptain." His second-in-command paused, then continued. "Where are we going first?"

Johnston shrugged. "Ask the Faesians who will be escorting us. I assume the borderlands, but... you should probably ask them if you want a good answer."

As Johnston left the throne room, Myrissa turned her head to Narishian. "Find the criminal," she murmured under her breath, "bring him to us first. I want to know what he did."

Narishian tipped his head downward, stepping down from the throne and headed into a separate hallway.

---

The captain of the battalion marched over toward the other Captain. His deep brown eyes were set on the man with the blue and white star on his back. His brown hair fell neatly in combed waves as he waved to the other foreign troops.

As he neared, the words caught to the man and he inclined his head lightly. "The borderlands would only have so much," he said and set his hand on the hilt of his sword. "If you really want to track down a criminal, you have to first know what they were doing."

One of the troops looked toward the Captain with a blank look. "Stealing?"

"A thief," the Captain echoed with a sharp noise. "He'll definitely not be anywhere near the borderlands. He'll be headed toward a city or something in which he can steal more and get enough to make a getaway."

He lifted his hand, signaling to the three troops with him. "We'll head toward the Forestria estate first. They have a large city and they're one of the southern provinces."

He nodded briefly before pausing. "Ah, I never properly introduced myself. Captain Cyrus," the man extended his hand out to the other, "you must be Captain Johnston, right?"

Johston nodded his head. "Your briefing must have been pretty thorough, Captain Cyrus. Now, I'm not entirely confident with the lay of the land here-" he looked away briefly before continuing, "-and I trust that you have a grasp on this situation. He's a bit dangeous, and we'd like him back in our cells as soon as possible." He looked at Cyrus. "You say he's headed to this... Forestria estate, you believe?" Honestly, Johnston had absolutely zero clue. It wasn't like he had had to have studied Faesian geography when he was learning how to fight with a sword.

Then again, this was a day of firsts. He'd never even been to Faesia before, let alone into the castle to speak to the Queen about... a prisoner. That personally, Johnston thought was the suitor they had seen running away.

But what was he? nothing but a cog in the machine. An important cog, but a cog nonetheless. And if these messy royals wanted to brand a runaway as a thief, then that was their business.

It wasn't his... was it?

(A bit short. Sorry.)

Captain Cyrus let out a loose noise, almost a chuckle. "I work with a lot of ruffians and criminals, I studied them to get into this position. But knowing is half the battle, we'll see how right we actually are!"

The man paused briefly before tipping his head. "Since we will be working together, feel free to just call me Flynn," he replied with a warmer grin and a wink. The captain turned back to the Faesian troops and signaled for them to ride on out.

"Forestria Estate, yes sir," Flynn began to address him again, as they traveled. "The estate is located in the thicker wooded areas of Faesia. That's partially why it has so many people but also, because of the thickness of the trees, it's a hot spot for bandits, thieves and other ruffians."

Flynn turned ahead before glancing back at the troops, he made a quiet and quick headcount before nodding.

"You say he's rather dangerous, eh? What sort of things make him particularly dangerous, so we can make sure that we're properly prepared to deal with this particular criminal?"

His smile had faded, leaning into a far more serious and business like frown. Something threatening the land of Faesia wasn't unheard of but for another kingdom to go running after their own criminal that was new.

Usually they let them terrorize another kingdom for a while before they were either sent back or just straight up dealt with.

"And what does he look like?" Flynn added to his questions. "So that we can keep an eye out...?"

Flynn tipped his head in return to Scott. At least they had a description that was more than a lot of things that they had. A description was a great start at the least.

His gloved hand reached over the space to snag the parchment from the Galcolian captain. The description was mediocre at best.

"... tall fellow," he murmured under his breath, scanning over the words. Blond, dark-ish skin, faded blue eyes, taller and that was it.

He dipped his head lightly and returned the paper to Scott. His brown eyes lifted up from the man to the pathway in front of them. "Well, that's alright. The Forestria estate is a secondary province in the kingdom itself. High Queen Myrissa rules the kingdom itself but certain areas within the kingdom have their own rulers--they're like advisors but with more responsibilities... or perhaps less..."

He shook his head. "The Forestria estate is ruled by a woman named Cassandra Alianna. She's eccentric at best but don't worry, she's got her eyes set on a different man," he let out a weary chuckle. "Poor guy. But she tends to keep an eye on most of her estate through the guards and the officers. There are three other estates in the Faesian kingdom."

He was more than happy to ramble on about the kingdom. "If he isn't in Forestria then we might look at Mystican next. They're on the coast and it could be that your criminal is trying to be a stowaway."

Flynn settled into the saddle, content where he was. "What is Galcolia really like? I've only heard offhand rumors and the likes."

Most kingdoms were somewhat the same. But it was the morals and the values that they held close to their hearts that made them different. Loyalty and strength were far more important to Faesia than looks, bonds and ties--as pertaining to Galcolia. Galcolia held tightly to rigid rules, schedules and organization. Faesia was far less rigid. It was far more fluid, perhaps a bit chaotic in that sense.

Flynn let out a loose chuckle. "It gives us a sense of nationality, a sense of pride and patriotism. We see the colors of Faesia and we know we are at home."

He shook his head lightly and glanced ahead then up at the sky. His brown eyes scanned for a moment or two before he lowered his gaze to the other captain once more. "It shouldn't be more than a few hours at the most. Forestria is technically the manor where the castle grounds are. But the castle grounds are considered a different entity from the other estates."

He shrugged loosely, waving one hand as he spoke. "I wish we knew what your criminal was really accused of. It would make things so much easier to deal with."

He shook his head lightly and exhaled, settling in for a long ride.

The main city of Forestria was large--massive--and bustling with people. People rode horses, carriages, walked everywhere. Occasionally music would echo and float out from a street corner musician. Many, many, many shops and booths lined the streets of the market place that spanned several blocks.

On the edges of the marketplace, inns, bars, saloons and even hotels rose up to create a sort of wall. Flynn pulled his horse to the side. "Should we search first or should we stop and let you all rest?"

Flynn tipped his head lightly and glanced back to his troops as well. He waved his hand in a short signal. "We'll stop at the main city," the man explained briefly and turned back to the man.

One afternoon would change nothing indeed.

"If nothing else, we can always go and search a bit by ourselves," Flynn offered the other captain. "If you aren't terribly tired that is. I wouldn't mind searching myself."

He turned the troops toward one of the distant hotels, one of the ones on the edge of the marketplace. It was small, quaint and quiet comparatively to the other blocks of customers, window shoppers, merchants and the ambiance that they brought with them.

"I will have my troops going out to look for anything or anyone that might know a thing or two about your thief."

He seemed relatively confident in that sense, that he knew where and what their criminal would be doing. As they neared the hotel, he paused to give his men a short description--the same description that he had--of the person in question.

"Blond?" One man questioned and then scowled. "Like how blond are we talking?"

"His skin is darker," another troop pointed out. "There can't be that many that match that description. I think it's a case of knowing it when we find it."