Chapter 22

For a month and a half, Elise had been dragged about, and confined for five excruciating days. In her battered state, there wasn’t a single inch of her flesh that wasn’t sore, and she would have typically been down and out for a whole month. Even the slightest movement would make her ankles twist, and any abrasions would take weeks to mend. Her constitution was peculiar indeed.

With a twitch of her wrist, Elise withdrew her hand from beneath her robe and gazed at her bare wrist. Upon her initial release from the handcuffs, a prominent red bruise marked her wrist bone. Ten days had since elapsed, and now, the bruise had faded to a yellow hue. Though still somewhat discolored, it had nearly vanished.

Rezette, perched overhead, let out a gentle sigh. “The bruise is still there,” he murmured.

Elise was taken aback. “It’s still there? This is the first time it’s ever disappeared so swiftly.”

“What?” Rezette’s brow furrowed.

“Just ten days…” A sudden recollection of Andrei’s voice drifted into her mind. “You’ll recover,” he had said.

That’s right, Elise thought. He did mention something like that when we parted ways. 

She assumed it was simply words of encouragement or advice, that she could continue to live her life even after her ordeal in Argan. But was it not? A glimmer of hope shone in Elise’s eyes.

Perhaps I can finally break out of this shell of a body…

The plans that Elise had tirelessly crafted by herself glimmered with promise. For a time, she was so consumed by her musings that she belatedly realized that the conversation had lapsed into an uneasy silence. “Oh, I apologize,” she said, “I’ve never experienced anything like this before, so it’s all rather fascinating.”

“You really…” Rezette trailed off.

“What?” Elise inquired.

“Nothing,” he muttered, suppressing a thought that threatened to spill forth. He was astounded by how fragile humans could be, reduced to such a state by mere handcuffs. Ten days had already elapsed, and that was it? He had endured much worse. The doctor’s diagnosis surfaced in his mind again—Elise’s pulse scarcely registered as that of a living person.

“Shall we rest?” he suggested.

“Ah, would you like me to return to the carriage?” Elise asked.

“No. I mean, would you like to pause and relax in a nearby village for a bit?”

“I’m alright, but if you’re feeling tired, then we can do that…” Elise’s words trailed off, and the conversation took a peculiar turn.

“What?” Rezette’s head swam with confusion. In his entire life, no one had ever asked him, “Are you tired?”

As Elise realized her error belatedly, Rezette struggled to find a response. “I’m really fine,” she assured him. “But if resting would be better, I’ll let you know. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you if I were to collapse from exhaustion.”

But even as the words left her lips, they felt inadequate. An inconvenience…

Rezette struggled to decipher how he should respond to the princess’s words. Was she oblivious to her status as a princess? Rezette couldn’t fathom how someone who was surely raised with love and care could behave in such a peculiar way. Elise had a strange tendency to scrutinize other people’s expressions to an unnerving degree. As soon as she had assessed the disposition of those in positions of power and influence, she’d promptly assume a submissive stance with every word that she spoke.

It didn’t seem it was simply because of Argan’s failure and owed him debt. Her reassurances seemed to stem from some habitual behavior, rather than any specific person or event. Perhaps she’d never encountered anyone beyond the confines of the palace walls, Rezette mused. If she’d been cooped up in her quarters at Argan Palace, cut off from the outside world, it was plausible.

The princess’s body was emaciated, her bones jutting out against her skin. It was hard to believe that anyone would think she was carrying a child inside that frail frame. Rezette suppressed a sigh and tightened his grip on her waist.

The princess, who had spent her entire life behind the fortified walls of her palace, was now a captive, taken by the enemy and forced to traverse the length of the continent to a foreign land. She had suffered imprisonment, barely escaped death with a clever deception, and even endured a farcical marriage. Now, she was journeying east to Rotiara.

Rezette suddenly became aware that he was paying more attention to the princess than he ought to. No matter how the princess decided the end of her life, it was not his concern. He promptly quashed any further musings.

As they rode on, Elise gazed out at the passing landscape, her cheeks regaining some color after a bout of fever. But her excitement was short-lived. As their horse descended a steep hill, she suddenly grabbed Rezette’s arm with a stern expression.

“Wait!” she exclaimed urgently. “We shouldn’t go any further. Stop the horse.”

Almost simultaneously, Rezette too sensed a lurking danger. His eyes flicked to the terrain ahead, and his countenance turned tense. He regarded Elise with surprise; his senses were far sharper than those of a typical human, but it appeared she was one step ahead of him.

“Bandits,” Elise said fearfully, indicating the twelve and two o’clock positions.

They were leading the procession, leaving them vulnerable to attack. Rezette leaned in close to Elise and spoke in a low voice. “We must return to the carriage. Go inside, lock the door, and don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”

Elise nodded, her lip caught between her teeth. Rezette was the first to dismount, extending a hand to help her down. But before they could move, a sudden whizzing sound pierced the air.

Swoosh!

An arrow grazed the tip of Elise’s hood, missing her by mere inches.

Elise was caught off guard, unsure of what had just happened. Only when she saw the fear etched on the man’s face as he tried to assist her down from the horse did she realize what had happened. An arrow had been shot at her.

“Ruben!” Rezette barked, taking hold of Elise and quickly handing her over to Ruben as he rushed towards them. “It’s an attack. Gather the troops and prepare for defense.”

“Yes, Your Highness. Please be careful,” Ruben replied, taking Elise from Rezette’s arms.

Elise held on tightly to the edge of Rezette’s cloak. “Be careful,” she urged him.

The man cast a subtle glance her way, gesturing to Ruben without saying a word. Elise’s fingers slipped through the empty fabric of his deep blue cape.

The carriage was stationed at the back, but the attackers were relentless, raining down arrows on them despite the short distance. Elise’s face turned pale as she noticed that this arrow was different from the first one. “This arrow… Ruben, it’s poisoned. Be careful not to get hit!”

“Poisoned? Damn it! Who would dare to attack Rotiara’s army like this!” Ruben cursed.

“It’s Ugel,” Elise whispered, memories of the same cross-shaped arrowheads with a black, sticky liquid on the tip flooding back to her. When she and her maids had escaped from the Argan Palace, some of them had been hit by those same arrows. The sight of their bodies covered in black spots, writhing in agony, was seared into her memory.

Ruben expertly swung his sword, deflecting two arrows at once. Elise strained to catch a glimpse of Rezette amidst the knights, but their formation obstructed her view. Instead, a fresh deluge of black arrows rained down, aimed directly at her. Panic seized her—the target was undoubtedly her. 

As the danger loomed, Rotiara’s knights swiftly surrounded Elise, but there was no telling if this large group could dodge dozens of arrows. Elise slipped her hand inside her robe and pressed two fingers onto her left forearm where a defensive magic circle was located.

“Andrei…!” she uttered urgently, and a translucent blue barrier materialized, extending over everyone’s heads. The barrier was vast enough for multiple people to take cover, and the arrows that struck its solid and transparent surface ricocheted in all directions. Even Elise was taken aback by the extent of the protective magic.

Was this magic really so extensive…?

Andrei had previously explained as he etched the magic circle for Elise, but she couldn’t recall it in the current urgency.

“Your Highness!” Ivetsa, with a blue complexion, hastened towards her and yanked her into a carriage.

“What’s happening? We haven’t even reached Van Yela’s border. Are you alright?” Elise inquired.

“I’m fine. I’ve been inside the carriage the entire time. Don’t worry. It’s not a pleasant scene, so let’s open the window first… Oh, you’re shivering. Are you really okay, Your Highness?” Ivetsa expressed concern as the stench of blood wafted through the door’s crevice.

Elise recollected the corpses she witnessed while fleeing from Argan Palace, the faces of her former subordinates and nobles who supported Argan inundating her thoughts.

“I’m fine…I’m okay.” Elise struggled to suppress her queasiness as the odor of blood grew increasingly pungent.

Rezette stood at the vanguard of the defensive line, gazing upwards at the transparent stream extending over his head. The luminous particles flickered like placid waves, deflecting a barrage of arrows. It was a mesmerizing spectacle.

She claimed she wasn’t a wizard, but can wield magic, Rezette pondered. It seemed that it wasn’t a lie. If this barrier could withstand, there would be no need for him to intervene. His right arm, which had begun to transform, slowly ceased to change.