TNLA 53

Chapter 53

After deciding on the route, he sent people off in several different directions to leave traces.

Women with green eyes, and men with purple eyes.

Of course, blond or brown hair would have been ideal, but it wasn’t easy to find that many people who met such specific conditions. Hair could be dyed without much trouble, so matching eye color was more important.

Still, green eyes were relatively common; purple eyes were rare.

Damn purple eyes….

Even during the rough childhood in the back alleys where he was abused more for being of mixed Slur blood, he had never resented his eye color this much. Why couldn’t his eyes have been some more ordinary color?

Anyway, he managed to find and hire several men with purple eyes. He paired them with women who had green eyes and sent them off in various directions.

Some rode horses, some were sent by carriage, some by stagecoach, and some bought boat tickets. He instructed the women to limp a little as they went.

Some left very strong traces, others faint ones. If anyone in Shuel had started tracking right then, they would probably be following them.

Given the temperament of that lord’s steward he had studied in advance, though, it was more likely they hadn’t even begun tracking yet. If fortune smiled very brightly, they might not have realized she was missing until morning.

That pig of a steward’s belittling of her was infuriating, but the fact that he thought so little of her he didn’t bother protecting her could also be useful.

Of course, those decoys wouldn’t keep moving forever. They would leave traces only up to a certain point, then split off and go free.

Still, that was enough to confuse the initial tracking. Once the early trail was scattered, the search area would become so broad that they’d no longer be able to follow their traces.

How long would it take that bastard to return from the west, track down all those people, and realize none of them were the real one?

This time they weren’t going to run crazily to lose everyone by speed. While their attention was drawn elsewhere, they would move as quietly and unobtrusively as possible…

“Miss, by the way—”

“Hmm?”

“Pardon me… if it’s all right, would you like me to dye your hair?”

“Oh.”

Arlen picked up her shining golden hair with her hand and smoothed it, then looked at Ajenn’s darkened hair.

“Sure, of course. Teach me how to dye it.”

“Then I’ll fetch some dye.”

While Ajenn rose to find the dye, something rustled behind him and there was a small scraping sound.

“Miss?”

When Ajenn turned, Arlen was holding his sword in one hand and, with the other, a bundle of her cut hair.

“What should we do with this…?”

She had probably never had short hair in her life. From the moment it had grown, she’d always worn that gleaming, luscious blond hair long, letting it flow and shimmer. She remembered how beautifully it shone in bright sunlight and how it fluttered in the wind.

“Wouldn’t it be better to burn it? If someone tracks us to this hut and finds the hair bundle, they’ll quickly realize she changed to short hair.”

Yet now she, as if without a trace of attachment, cut her hair short without hesitation and spoke about disposing of it as if discussing the trash.

Ajenn swallowed the lump in his throat and answered.

“I’ll burn it. Give it to me.”

He put the hair into the hearth and set it alight.

Wrapping cheap cloth around her clothes to protect them while they dyed the shortened hair, Arlen watched her blond tresses blaze away.

She once liked her hair. She liked the way it fluttered up in the breeze. She liked how it swayed over her shoulders with every step, how it made that slight rustling sound. She liked its sun-like color. She liked twisting it between her fingers.

Until the one who had daily petted it and licked it and coveted it came along.

Feeling Ajenn’s hand comb through her now-short hair, she closed her eyes. When she opened them she would look completely different. She hoped she would be someone else.

Someone the man had never desired, never touched — someone different.

After cleaning the hut and burning everything they should, the two of them, prepared, climbed into a carriage they had readied beside the hut.

It was a shabby carriage with a crudely nailed roof and walls made from rough, unworked wood so as not to attract attention, but one side inside was filled with soft bedding and cushions.

“It’s a long way. Sleep.”

Arlen lay down on the prepared blankets and watched the back of the man driving the carriage. He wore his hat pulled down and a plain, common navy tunic. For a long while she stared at his straight, strong back.

Through the open space toward the coachman’s seat, a warm, fresh breeze drifted in.

Her shortened hair stirred and tickled the nape of her neck. She picked up a strand of the brown hair that had replaced her blond and held it in front of her face.

‘It’s awkward….’

But she didn’t dislike it. No — she liked it. It felt light and cool.

She lightly touched the bandaged ankle. It was sore, but she felt the pain was already less than before. He had told her not to strain herself, but a little movement seemed okay.

She carefully flexed her foot up and down.

Would she be able to walk again?

Sunlight came through the open space; a few white clouds floated in the blue sky. The clopping of the horse’s hooves moved in steady rhythm, occasionally joined by birdsong and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

It was peaceful….

Drowsy with the gentle warmth of late spring, she closed her eyes.

If, when she closed her eyes now, she could not open them again — that might be fine too. If she could fall asleep this pleasantly and peacefully….

Free from the blood-slick grip, somewhere free.

Maybe, she thought, that would be the best ending for now.

If she could peacefully close her eyes behind that back…

She fell asleep again.

Two days later, the news of the disappearance of the former Princess of Luthern reached Duke Requies — who was preparing to suppress the remainder of the rebellion and root out the last pockets.

A chill of killing intent spread through the room. Hard’s teeth clenched and the pen he held shattered. He feared the messenger who brought the news might be killed.

But the duke calmly set down what was in his hands, stood, and looked out the window.

A heavy silence settled in the room. The murderous aura had not faded. Some clerks, including the messenger who had never trained as a knight, began to gasp for breath under the pressure of the duke’s presence, but no one dared speak.

“Hard.”

“Yes, my lord.”

When the lord, whose back still faced them, spoke, the hostility in the room eased slightly and people drew breath.

“Send messengers to all the gates and issue a wanted order across the entire region. Make sure the border checkpoints receive the message immediately.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And return to Shuel at once and begin the search. I’ll give you full authority — use whatever resources you need.”

“Yes, my lord. We’ll bring her back, without fail.”

Hard was relieved the duke hadn’t simply dropped everything and personally rushed back to Shuel, but just thinking what would happen if this went wrong sent a cold sweat down his spine.

“Sir Lanier.”

“Yes, my lord.”

A knight in formal armor stepped forward.

“Those who sheltered the rebels are rebels themselves, aren’t they?”

Lanier stiffened. He didn’t want to answer hastily because he could imagine what orders would follow, but it wasn’t the time to propose objections.

“…Yes, sir.”

The next day, the suppression of the rebellion was carried out with unprecedented brutality. Civilians and rebels alike were massacred in grisly fashion; the rebellion was quickly crushed, but the casualty count skyrocketed.

For Crown Prince Juhed, who had been waiting for a dreadful example to ensure rebellion could never sprout again, this was a desirable outcome.

Having finished the suppression and handed the final cleanup to the commander of the knights, Kashion hurried back to the castle and first summoned Count Aesop.

“Guh… Your Highness…!”

The count lay on the floor, pressing his hands helplessly at the leather boot stomping on his chest, trying desperately to shove it away, but to no avail. His ribs felt crushed.

“You incompetent fool. While thieves broke in and stole my woman, you just stood there with your hands off and offered her up like a servant? Even if I had to throw away ten worthless lives in this castle, she was the one thing you should have protected to the last breath.”

“Your Highness, I—I thought it was the castle… a rebellion… gah.”

“A rebellion? Was there even a rebellion? You were tricked by a trifling prank and mocked, and right before my eyes you let someone into the castle and hand over what’s mine without knowing what was important and what wasn’t?!”