At first I distracted myself into thinking that it hallucinated, that I imagined. The mountains played tricks like that—shadows stretching wrong, branches moving when there was no wind. But this—
This felt different.
I felt that gaze. I felt someone watching over.
My grip tightened around the bow, but I didn't trust it—I was already poor with aiming. So my fingers shifted instead, brushing against the dagger at my waist.
Better the closer.
Without a word to Aaron or Frekios, I slipped down from the horse. The snow barely crunched beneath my boots as I moved—slow, controlling my breath, careful not to draw attention.
They were distracted anyway.
Still hunting, still searching for prey—hadn't noticed the disfigurement yet.
Good.
Step by step, I moved closer to the tree. The sir felt tighter here, closer to my chest, my sense sharpened, every small sound amplifies—the faint rustle of branches, the soft shift of snow beneath something that wasn't me.
Someone was there, hiding.
I raised my dagger—straight ahead.
"Come out."
Nothing moved a bit. Silence stretched.
Then—a shift after ten seconds. And suddenly—someone stood in front of me.
Too close.
I didn't see that person stepping, but was just there. my dagger was already pointed at the throat.
A mask. Hair tied back in a bun. No clear feature for letting the identity slip. But that short-lean stature left some clues.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then—a smile slipped out from the other side, not wide—just obvious. But then I saw that smirk—like the person felt it was entertaining.
Something in my chest tightened. That was enough to make my decision.
I moved first.
The dagger went from the neck—fast, direct, no hesitation. But no use—it went dogged effortlessly.
It was alright, but the next time I blinked—there was a blade in the hand of the person, where it came from, I could guess right. And the next moment—
Pain pierced sharp…..it was my thigh targeted.
I sucked a breath, stumbling half a step back, but I didn't stop. I slashed again, forcing distance, forcing space. I tried everything Macios taught, everything I was able to gather—but it seemed pointless.
The only thing I verified was that my opponent was a woman—I managed to make a slight split through her chest button. But she was too good....God what a shame. Not even my gender I could combat.
Her strikes were too fast, too precise. She probably trained for years.
The next strike came for my arm—I blocked it, barely, the impact jarring through my wrist. My grip faltered for a second—that was enough to make another cut.
Warmth spread instantly up to my hand.
She made several strikes, all I was able to do was defend. Who knows what could have happened if it wasn't for my sincerity in training—probably death would have welcomed me today.
My breath was already growing uneven, but I forced myself forward again, driving the dagger towards the side. This time—contact.
A shallow cut—she stepped back. A shallow smile peeked out of her lips. Like I have done something .....mildly impressive.
But that was enough to say, it strike me just a second later that I have committed a mistake. A mistake of annoying her ego—her moves multiplied in folds.
She made a slick movement under my arms, side by my waist—force not enough to injure me severely, but quiet enough to remind me where I stood. Even when I tried to meet her every moves, I was nowhere in comparison.
My movement slowed. My vision tightening slightly, the edges blurring just enough to remind me—I wasn't ready for this.
I stepped back—too late. She moved again—and then—
A sharp compact behind her. The sound of the steel ringing till far in the bare land.
She staggered, her dagger slipping from her hand and hitting the ground with a dull thud. Before she could recover, Aoran struck again—
I almost enjoyed the scene. No, I should say like that—but I did.
She collapsed, and so did her mask slipped as she hit the ground with a huge thud.
Frekios arrived a second later, already scanning the surrounding, while Aoran dragged the unconscious body towards the nearest tree.
Rope—Aaron always was fully prepared. He tied her against the tree tight. Not letting her rest unconscious too—she was held up in standing stature.
"My lady," Aaron said, turning to me briefly, his gaze flickering over my injuries, "what should we do with her?"
Her.
So, he had noticed too. How could I have not expected that from the greatest flirt I know.
"Let her be tied," I commanded, my voice steadier than I felt. "I want to see who she is."
Frekios hesitated. "We should inform the Lord."
"No."
My answer came too quickly. Almost making me seem interested in this drama. I paused, then added, quieter, "Not yet."
Honestly, this felt interesting. Almost being transmitted for about half a year—it was the first time for me to encounter some fun.
......…..
It took time. More than I expected.
By the time she stirred, the light had shifted, shadows stretching longer across the ground.
Three hours maybe.
Aaron and Frekios had relaxed slightly—having shit-chats, but not carelessly. Though they spoke in low voice, it was all more audible to me. honestly at times their chats seemed interesting. But I couldn't think by past Aoran words who's all the words somehow seemed to be connected to some or the other lady he saw for split seconds on the street.
People ask, even with good looks and everything, how could someone be single. Aaron was a big example. The problem lied in the personality to say.
Aaron was now elaborating the girl he tied—almost romantically, and on the other side—Frekios signing as almost irritated of him blabbering.
Then—
She moved.
She moved too suddenly. Her head snapped up, breath sharp, body tensing against the ropes.
I stepped forward immediately, dagger already in my hand, pressing the blade lightly beneath her chin.
"Don't move." A smile spread across my lips as I commanded.
Her eyes lift to mine. Clear now, more aware. And then—
She smiled, again—as if returning my given ounce. Her eyes still gleaming, speaking how she still doesn't feels lost at all.
"Your name and purpose?"
Her lips parted slightly, like she might laugh. "You can guess," her words came softly. "My purpose....who am I."
I frowned, "Tell clearly."
A sharp sound behind me. I knew it's Aaron.
His sword was already drawn. He came too quick—the tip pressed directly against her chest. Hard enough to pierce.
Blood welled instantly.
"Speak," he said, voice cold. "Or we make you."
She let out a soft, almost amused breath. "Ahh, there was no need to be this brutal. We just started to get along—"
The blade pressed deeper before she ended her sentence. Aaron was always like this. He like to see his opponent tremble on their knees—just to amuse himself.
As the blood flowed more freely, Aaron smirked. "Answer straight."
She winced—just slightly—but the smile didn't fully disappear.
"…..Fine," she spoke with a thinner voice, but still no change in her expression. "Clarice Lemore."
The name meant nothing.
"A messenger," she continued, "from Flembora."
Flambora—the central kingdom. The one which mow belonged to—the Crown Prince, Atticus brother.
My grip tightened slightly on the dagger.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
She coughed lightly, blood touching her lips. "Of course to deliver a message."
I let out a quiet breath.
"You could have done that without all that drama," Aaron gave a slight laugh withdrawing his sword in sudden burst.
The girl jostled forward spitting a few drops of blood. Then again smiled—almost seeming crazy enough. But however, close up she was pretty—with freckles and dark curly hairs spilling over her grey eyes, she could easily have been a salvic model in the modern era.
A faint laugh escaped her. "I was bored."
Aaron's heand pressed harder against the cut he created on her chest. "Careful," he said calmly. "Boredom can cost you more than you think."
Without a word after, Aoran stepped back a bit and cut the ropes binding her.
The moment they loosened, she dropped forward, barely catching herself. From within her clothes she pulled out a folded slip and held it toward me.
"For you."
I took it, but didn't open. Just had a feeling like it should be opened in private.
The girl was bleeding more now. Weak—but not helpless.
Frekios glanced at her, then me. "Are we leaving her like this?"
I looked at her for a moment. She was a messenger—just a notorious one, having some fun. But wasn't a criminal. I was collecting my thoughts. Then only—
"But I don't think so it would be good." Aaron interrupted as usual.
Both Frekios and me met the gaze of Aaron, then exchanged glances with each other. This was something both of us expected to have in Aoran's mins, but for him to say it out loud.
"I mean, the weather is so bad here, she would just die of bleeding in two days at max. But it won't be fun then. However she is a Crown Prince's messenger. It won't be right to dare him...."
I signed unintentionally. Usually, it's Aaron making plans to invade the central city. And see him now—making bullshit talks just to have few more moments with the new girl. I couldn't care less.
I looked at them once. Good lookaaa....strong combat…. If both end up liking each other ever, would be couple I did ship too. Not bad together.
"Okay take her." I said without looking at either of them again, turning to my horse.
I knew what kind of pleased expression Aaron must be having.
Never mind...…