3.
The Crown Prince did not appear at the meeting place even after the appointed time had passed.
While Karl searched the storage shed thoroughly, finding dried jerky and a few water flasks, Idis curled up on a chair draped in white cloth.
She wanted to help somehow, but Karl persuaded her to conserve her strength.
“I will go and check the surroundings.”
Karl placed a set of faded clothes and shoes he had found in a drawer at her feet. Hesitating, unable to bring himself to say she needed to change, he awkwardly rubbed the back of his head when Idis rose and picked them up.
“When you are finished, please knock three times.”
Taking his own set of clothes, Karl stepped outside.
As Idis unfolded the tunic—far too large for her—the coarse, stiff texture of the fabric brushed against her hands.
Only then did she truly realize how comfortably she had lived until now.
Why had she always taken everything for granted?
‘To regret only after losing it… how shameless of me.’
Feeling a pang of shame, Idis roughly removed her soiled chemise.
Karl returned shortly after her signal.
Against the dull-colored clothes, her hair shone even more brightly.
“If you intend to walk long distances, you must tie the knots more tightly.”
As he adjusted her clothing, Karl untied the laces of her shoes, stuffing her gloves inside to make them fit. He also rolled up the sleeves that were far too long for her hands.
Idis parted her lips to thank him—
—but Karl quickly raised a finger.
‘Shh.’
The soft sound of footsteps brushing through grass drew closer.
Karl tightened his grip on his sword. Idis held her breath without realizing it.
“Commander.”
“…Lucas?!”
Recognizing the voice, Karl cautiously opened the door.
Two figures in black robes rushed inside.
One of them, similar in build to Idis, pulled back the hood—revealing silver hair matted with blood and dirt.
It was Ian, the Crown Prince of the Empire—bearing the same hair and eye color as Idis.
“Brother!”
The breath she had been holding finally escaped her lips.
Idis wanted to run to him and cry in his arms, but she forced herself to hold back.
“Your Highness, I am relieved you are safe.”
“Lucas has had quite a difficult time.”
As if to prove it, Ian’s previously flawless face bore several scratches, and the cloth wrapped around his shoulder was soaked in blood.
“…What happened?”
“I only pulled out an arrow. If I had heated the blade first, the bleeding wouldn’t be this bad—but there wasn’t time. I’m fine now.”
His calm tone only made it worse.
“…What happened, Lucas?”
Karl questioned Lucas, who still remained on high alert. His light brown hair was damp with sweat and dust, his brown eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
“We have pursuers. We must leave immediately.”
“Has Rishar already caught on?”
“I’m not certain. There was an unidentified force stationed in the eastern Tourne Forest.”
Ian spoke, recalling the scene.
“They wore imperial uniforms, but they didn’t seem like imperial soldiers. Too many to be Rishar’s private army—and their speech carried a northern accent.”
“If troops had moved, the garrison should have noticed. Yet no reports have come in over the past months…”
Karl ran a hand over his face, deep in thought.
“Could he have brought in northern forces? It’s strange they could move so quietly.”
“…I think it’s possible.”
“Why do you say that, Idis?”
“I once spoke with Lady Alicia of Scarve. She believed that if she became engaged to Rishar, the north would gain greater benefits.”
Idis spoke cautiously.
“That makes sense. Not just Scarve—other regions are suspicious as well. If that many troops have been mobilized, the borders must be vulnerable…”
Ian trailed off, but they were all thinking the same thing.
The worst-case scenario—war breaking out amidst civil conflict.
None of them wanted to voice it.
“We’ll need to investigate further once we settle our course.”
Tension filled the shed.
Idis had many questions, but she could not bring herself to ask them.
Sensing the heavy atmosphere, Ian changed the subject.
“Well, at least we gained something. It was risky being tracked, but we managed to secure horses. Otherwise, catching up to you would’ve been difficult.”
As Ian pulled his robe back over himself, Karl instinctively moved to guard Idis.
It was time to depart again.
The once pitch-black sky slowly began to lighten. In the distance, smoke still rose from the imperial palace.
A sight she had never imagined.
Clenching her fists, Idis fought back her tears.
The family she loved, the home she cherished—were gone.
The palace she had never once left now felt impossibly distant.
Without hesitation, Idis mounted her horse.
She burned with the desire to return and cut down Rishar herself—but survival came first.
Still, until the palace disappeared beyond the ridge, she looked back again and again.
* * *
With the horses, travel became easier—yet for Idis, the journey was still grueling.
Riding without a proper saddle was uncomfortable, and the sensation in her thighs had long since faded into numb pain.
Even so, she did her best not to show it.
The more exhausted she became, the straighter she held her back. She suppressed every groan that threatened to escape her lips.
Everyone was struggling.
She refused to become a burden.
At first, they exchanged occasional words—but as the sun began to set, conversation faded.
Fatigue seeped into the silence.
She realized, for the first time, how much energy even speaking required.
When they had grown accustomed to the quiet, the western sky turned crimson with dusk.
Ian, riding ahead, brought his horse to a stop.
“We should prepare to camp soon. Let’s find a suitable place here.”
Pushing forward recklessly at night would only lead to accidents.
Before the light fully disappeared, they settled in a wide, level area.
Night fell quickly in the mountains.
“We won’t light a fire tonight. We can’t leave traces. We must remain vigilant.”
Ian glanced at Idis.
Can you endure it?
“Don’t worry. I’m not so weak that I would complain at a time like this.”
“Good. I’d like to leave it to you two, but given the situation, we’ll take turns keeping watch. Three shifts—Karl, Lucas, then me.”
“You should rest more, Your Highness.”
Though concern filled their eyes, Ian only smiled and patted their shoulders.
“Don’t make me into such a shameless Crown Prince.”
Even in hardship, he remained composed.
Perhaps that was why the knights followed him so loyally.
Without his steady presence, Idis felt she might have already given up.
“Has the carrier pigeon sent to Baron Bart not returned?”
“It should have come back by now… Perhaps something happened along the way.”
“It can’t be helped. If we hear nothing by tomorrow, we’ll observe the allied nations first.”
“You mean the Pallerion Alliance?”
“That’s right. If they haven’t forgotten their duty as allies, they’ll assist our asylum.”
Asylum.
The word darkened Idis’s expression.
Even if they accepted them—would it mean restoration… or merely a comfortable exile?
There was no time to dwell.
Even the faintest hope had to be grasped.
“If Rishar has taken the throne, would the alliance really oppose the Empire? If even one of Palun, Reneto, or Calion betrays us, the alliance will collapse.”
“True. But there’s one capable figure in Calion. Ambitious—and highly competent.”
“…Who?”
“Terdian Calion. The eldest son of the alliance leader.”
Ian smiled faintly.
“I’ve never met him in person, but you can know a man through his words.”
He added that they had exchanged letters.
A rising star of the Pallerion Alliance.
Idis had heard his name before.
They said Calion had risen above Palun and Reneto largely due to Terdian’s achievements.
Some even claimed that had he not been born in a lesser kingdom, the entire balance of the continent might have changed.
“You’ll like him too.”
A breeze passed.
Watching Ian’s hair sway gently, Idis suddenly felt a strong certainty—
That she would one day long for this very moment.
Her chest tightened.
Before she could dwell on it, a series of short bird calls echoed.
Karl quickly stood, raising a small mirror toward the sky.
Reflecting the last rays of sunlight, he signaled—
A black pigeon swooped down toward them.
“It’s finally returned.”
Karl caught it and carefully checked its legs—
But there was nothing.
“…There’s no message.”
Even after checking thoroughly, there was only soft plumage.
The pigeon, annoyed at being handled without reward, pecked at Karl’s hand.
“Perhaps there was an error along the way. My apologies.”
“No… if it returned, it means the message was received. No reply—neither acceptance nor refusal… We cannot judge until we meet the baron.”
Ian’s words scattered into the night air.
Idis looked up at the dark sky, her thoughts tangled.
* * *
A thin line of smoke rose into the darkness.
Above, a large shadow beat its wings, rustling the treetops.
A sharp whistle pierced the air.
A hawk descended gracefully onto a man’s arm.
It was a smaller bird, used for delivering messages.
The man took out a piece of dried meat. The hawk brushed its beak against his long fingers before swallowing the food contentedly.
He removed the pouch tied to its leg.
Inside was a long leather strip, covered in tightly written, indecipherable characters.
“My lord.”
The man wrapped the strip around an arrow.
The scattered letters aligned—
forming a single word:
“Success.”
That was enough.
He tossed the strip into the fire.
Flames flared, and the ashes scattered into the wind.
“How much farther?”
“Once we cross the river, we’ll arrive within three days.”
Eyes as dark as the night sky gazed into the distance.
“…We will meet soon.”
