Episode 19
The Village of Sienna
I shrugged my shoulders and said,
“If Prince Chris becomes king, our kingdom’s territory will grow unusually large.”
Wilshire nodded with admiration.
“That’s why neighboring nations are talking about this war for the throne. But I truly believe His Highness will become a wise and great king.”
Wilshire seemed to deeply respect Prince Christopher. And honestly, it made sense—people like him, born with the qualities of a true ruler, were rare in history. He was brave, unafraid of battle, and even led his men personally into small skirmishes.
‘If the former queen hadn’t been forced to drink poison… or if Anna hadn’t been a spy from the Duke’s household, he might really have become a wise ruler.’
I thought of the original story’s plot and spoke to Wilshire.
“Sir Wilshire, from now on, please give me the same meals the soldiers eat.”
He looked surprised.
“What? But my lady, that food isn’t suitable for someone of your status.”
“I don’t want to trouble anyone to make special meals while everyone’s so busy. You don’t have to serve me either.”
Before he could refuse, I turned and went back to the tent.
Two days later, early in the morning, we received news that our army had won the battle by the Ardel River, so we set off eastward.
***
The knights decided to rest for a while in a small mountain village. After unpacking their things at an inn, they went to a tavern for a late meal.
The village, called Sienna, was quiet and peaceful—war hadn’t reached here yet.
Sir Friedkin chose a table in the corner of the tavern for us. To hide my noticeable hair color, he made me wear a hooded robe.
‘No need to let her meet anyone from the Duke’s family. Just deliver her to the border and be done with it.’
Friedkin and Ginger both wanted to finish this unpleasant escort mission as fast as possible.
Unlike Noah, they secretly disagreed with Prince Chris’s decision to show mercy to the Mermandi family.
Friedkin spoke in a low, stiff tone to the hooded lady sitting across from him.
“My apologies, but from now on I’ll call you by a false name. Please don’t reveal your true identity until we reach our destination. The Duke’s letter won’t arrive for another week.”
I sipped my water and answered briefly.
“Understood.”
Because I hadn’t seen the sun in so long, my skin was pale as snow, and my wrists looked delicate under the robe. Friedkin avoided looking at my right eye—it made him uneasy.
Then, just as we began eating, Wilshire suddenly tensed.
Armed men were entering the tavern one after another, making the place noisy and tense. Friedkin lowered his hand beneath the table and gave silent signals to the others.
‘They’re knights from the Duke’s household.’
Men in red cloaks gathered at the entrance. One spoke to the tavern owner, then ordered his men to check the faces of every customer.
Friedkin mouthed to his comrades,
‘Don’t let the lady find out they’re here. If they realize we’re with her and hand her over now, we’ll be followed all the way back to camp.’
Ginger and Wilshire nodded.
Friedkin whispered quietly,
“Nati, I just remembered—I left something important at the inn. Could you come with me?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, please.”
He took my hand and quickly led me out of the tavern, while Ginger and Wilshire stood to block the red-cloaked knights’ view of me.
“Stop right there!”
The leader of the knights shouted, but Friedkin ignored him and escaped outside.
After a brief scuffle, Ginger and Wilshire managed to break free and followed him out.
Ginger cursed under his breath.
“Damn it. Even in this remote village, those Mermandi bastards show up.”
“That was too close. Let’s get back to the inn.”
But as they turned the corner, someone silently blocked their path.
It was a tall man wearing a snake mask.
Ginger immediately reached for his sword, but Wilshire stopped him.
“Wait. Don’t.”
The masked man didn’t carry a weapon, yet his presence was heavy and intimidating.
His long black hair was loose, and when he finally spoke, his voice was cold.
“Where are you taking the lady?”
“Lady? I don’t know what you’re talking about. And you? Judging by that ridiculous mask, you look like a wandering mercenary trying too hard.”
Wilshire could tell the man wasn’t just some vagrant. He was lean but well-trained—and familiar, somehow.
“Were you sent by the Second Prince?”
At that, the stranger gave a crooked smirk.
“The Second Prince? Honestly, I’m tired of hearing that name.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to know who I am.”
He pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment—it was a wanted poster with a sketch of a woman. Her reddish hair covered one eye.
“This missing-person notice is posted all over the kingdom. Looks a lot like the girl who was with you.”
“You’re mistaken. She’s not a noble lady, just someone traveling with us.”
“Who exactly?”
“The miller’s daughter, from our village—Mr. Thompson’s girl.”
Wilshire’s forehead began to sweat.
Ginger glanced nervously at him, afraid the stranger would keep questioning them.
The masked man thought to himself,
‘These royal soldiers are terrible liars.’
Just then, the sound of loud voices echoed down the street—the Duke’s knights were closing in. The masked man waved the wanted poster lazily.
“So… should I show this to them?”
“What do you want?”
“Tell me where your group is heading.”
Ginger stiffened immediately, glaring daggers at him.
Wilshire quickly calculated how much time they had before the knights arrived.
Finally, he shut his eyes and gave in.
“We’re heading east.”
It was a dangerous thing to admit to a stranger, but they had no choice if they wanted to escape.
The man tucked the poster back into his sleeve and nodded for them to continue.
Wilshire’s voice trembled slightly.
“By order of the prince, we’re escorting the lady to safety. We’re supposed to deliver her not here, but to Greenfield in the east.”
“Wilshire! Are you mad? You don’t even know who he is!”
Ginger shouted angrily, but the masked man—Devon Kiel—had already started to slip away quietly.
Their reaction told him everything he needed to know: the lady truly was headed to Greenfield.
Even if she survived leaving Duren, her chances of living were slim. There must have been some hidden deal behind all this—surely the Second Prince wouldn’t simply let her go.
‘And I doubt Prince Chris is exactly happy to see her alive either.’
Devon frowned.
He wasn’t supposed to interfere anymore—the guild’s rule was clear: once the job is done, don’t get involved with the target.
But the thought of that lady, Natania, wouldn’t leave his mind.
Whenever he thought of her, he was reminded of someone else—
his old comrade, the one who had lost his sight.
That boy once spied on the Mermandi household for the guild, feeding them high-level intelligence. He was the first to tell Devon about the duke’s daughter.
Years ago, on a mission in the Empire, Devon and that boy were ordered to assassinate a royal advisor.
On the way back, the boy had let Devon go first over a wall—and got ambushed, stabbed in the eyes by an enemy.
Devon had cared for him afterward, but eventually they were separated. A blind assassin had no value in their line of work.
Months later, Devon heard he had died.
‘…Again.’
Standing at the entrance of Sienna Village, Devon sighed and came back to the present.
He had followed the lady’s group this far and confirmed it—Natania was blind.
If she really wanted to die, why did she drink that potion in the first place?
And more importantly… why did he save her?
‘Because of the First Prince’s order,’ he told himself.
Even now, Devon refused to admit he had acted out of emotion.
Greenfield lay eastward—that meant they were heading toward the Duke’s territory.
‘I’ve come this far. I’ll at least make sure she crosses the border safely.’
