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Chapter 5…
Traveling Together
Late in the evening, Jonathan returned with fifteen large wagons and a group of men. Most of them were people he already knew well, and some had even brought their families.
Standing in the garden, Ophelia slowly looked over the drivers Jonathan had brought and spoke with quiet authority.
“Jonathan has already explained the terms, but I’ll say them again. We are going to the main Lareses house in Asri. But your only master is me, Ophelia Lareses. You move only at my command. Understood?”
One after another, the men answered, “Yes!” and “Understood, Miss.”
“Those with families may bring them along. If you wish, I will also provide work suited to them. Your wages will be ten as a month. Once we arrive in the capital, five of you will enter the main house with me. The rest will find lodgings outside the duke’s residence. But if anyone leaks an employer’s secrets or betrays me, that person and his family will be sold in the slave market. Everything is written in this contract. If you agree, place your thumbprint on it.”
The newly hired men stepped forward one by one and pressed their thumbprints onto the papers.
I definitely need my own people when I enter the main house.
Money mattered, but having loyal people was what would let her survive in that lion’s den.
“Good. From now on, load the wagons. The fact that it’s grain must remain an absolute secret. If outsiders ask, tell them it’s furniture, blankets, and household goods.”
“Yes, Miss.”
At Ophelia’s nod, Bisha and Tina began directing the workers. Everyone moved efficiently, each carrying out their assigned task.
Early the next morning, fifteen wagons stood lined up in front of Baron Jont’s gate.
Ophelia came out, already dressed for the long journey.
At the sight of their mistress, Jonathan bowed first, and the drivers immediately followed. He led Ophelia to the wagons.
“Everything’s loaded. Just as you ordered, we made ventilation holes so the grain won’t spoil and placed moisture-absorbing herb pouches inside.”
He pulled back the covering cloth.
“As you can see, we put household goods on top of the grain and covered everything. Unless someone searches inside, no one will know there’s grain underneath.”
“Good.”
After Jonathan finished, Tina pointed to the next wagon and began her report.
“As you instructed, I placed the drivers’ families in the largest wagon. Three women and two children. Ah, both children are girls.”
“How old are they?”
“Both look about eight years old. The women will help Bisha with her work, and I thought we could use the children for simple errands.”
“Good. You all worked hard. Let’s go.”
Standing before the wagon prepared for her, Ophelia turned for one last look at the baron’s estate.
A tear rolled down her cheek before she even realized it.
She had been born here. She had grown up here.
Precious memories of her late mother, her father now in the capital, and her brother were engraved in every corner.
She clasped both hands tightly over her chest.
Mother, I don’t think I’ll be able to return here for quite some time. Please forgive me, even if it saddens you. This time, I will protect our family. I swear it.
Without wiping away her tears, Ophelia quietly turned and climbed into the wagon.
Selling the house, buying grain in preparation for famine, hiring drivers…
Everything had happened as naturally as flowing water, as if fate itself had been waiting for her.
The wagon carrying Ophelia rolled forward like the wheel of destiny itself, racing toward the new fate she would carve out with her own hands.
“Ophelia!”
As Ophelia’s group approached the gate in the city wall where they had arranged to meet Count Dace’s party, Nea came running as if she had been waiting.
Seeing Nea’s face—brighter than the midday sun—lightened the weight of tension in Ophelia’s heart.
“Nea!”
Smiling brightly, Ophelia stepped down from the wagon, and Nea immediately linked arms with her and led her over to Dace Renat.
Count Dace was standing in front of an elegant carriage, speaking with someone seated inside.
“Father, Ria is here.”
“Oh, you’ve come. Welcome, Ophelia.”
“Thank you for allowing me to accompany you. I look forward to your guidance.”
Ophelia bent her knees slightly and greeted him neatly.
“Oh, and let me introduce you. This is Count Rude Wells, a nobleman from the Empire. He’ll be traveling to the capital with us.”
At those words, the carriage door opened and a man stepped out.
His silver hair scattered in the wind, gleaming softly in the sunlight.
Broad shoulders, a lean frame, and a face so breathtakingly beautiful it seemed the gods had poured every bit of beauty into him.
Even though Ophelia had seen him in her past life, she still let out a small breath of admiration.
His deep blue eyes, like mysterious lakes, only made him more enchanting.
Even Elia Lareses, famed as the greatest beauty in Astra, would have lost her radiance before him.
Calmly, and exactly according to etiquette, Ophelia greeted him.
Everything she had once learned desperately in order to become someone worthy of Albus—today, for the first time, she put it into practice.
“Ophelia Lareses greets Count Rude Wells. May the glory of the Sun God be with you.”
A once-in-a-generation genius.
A man second only to the emperor in the Empire.
And yet, to save his people, he had knowingly thrown himself into a battlefield full of traps.
He had burned the last moments of his youth holding back an enemy force more than ten times the size of his own for an entire month outside the fortress.
If only reinforcements had not been delayed by the Empire’s power struggles…
Ophelia steadied her troubled thoughts and slightly lifted her gaze to look at the Crown Prince.
At the same time, Myr observed Ophelia.
A pretty young lady.
At first glance, she seemed ordinary.
But her violet eyes shone brilliantly.
He found himself wanting to keep looking, wanting to know what was hidden inside them.
She’s looking at me like that again…
It was the same dazzled look noble ladies often gave him.
But then he noticed something strange.
There was sorrow in Ophelia’s eyes.
And more than that—he could read respect there.
Why?
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Rude Wells. I look forward to traveling with you.”
“The pleasure is mine, Count Rude.”
Myr gave Ophelia a gentle smile and climbed back into the carriage.
Soon, laughter from Nea and Ophelia drifted in through the window.
Myr found himself bothered by the look she had given him.
He had always been confident in reading expressions and eyes.
He knew he had not seen wrongly.
Ophelia Lareses… what exactly are you?
What Bella had told him the night before—the conduct entirely unlike that of a noble lady—only deepened his curiosity.
“Ron!”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The young man sitting in the driver’s seat answered immediately.
“Tonight, find out what’s loaded in the wagons that group brought.”
“You mean the young lady’s group traveling with us to the capital?”
“Yes.”
Ron grinned.
“Heh. Looks like I’ll finally get to stretch my body a little.”
Myr had chosen the perfect man.
Ron had once been a notorious master thief.
The so-called Gentleman of the Black Night—the thief who would even send advance notice to toy with his targets.
Naturally, someone who loved stealing under impossible circumstances could not resist challenging the imperial family.
He had been full of confidence when he sent his notice and slipped into the palace.
But the moment he entered through the front gate, he was caught by First Prince Myr.
Stubbornness stirred in Ron, and he tried two more times.
Each time, Myr caught him.
Instead of punishing him, Myr merely laughed and said,
“So it’s you again?”
And little by little, they had grown close.
At first Ron had only meant to lower Myr’s guard and steal something worthy of the name Gentleman of the Black Night.
But before he realized it, he had become Myr’s man.
What was stranger was that he did not feel bitter about it at all.
One night, wearing a look of disbelief even to himself, Ron had sworn loyalty to Myr.
Myr had simply smiled as if he had expected it all along and accepted him.
Lifting the carriage curtain slightly, Myr looked outside.
Ophelia was speaking to Bisha and Jonathan, her face unusually serious.
“Ron. Those wagons.”
“Trust me, Your Highness.”
While he was still thinking, the procession slowly began to move.
As the sun sank toward the west, the line of wagons cast long shadows over the ground as they entered Leaf Forest.
“My lord, I think we’ll need to camp here tonight.”
The mercenary captain reported from outside the carriage.
“Very well. We camp here tonight.”
At Dace’s order, the procession came to a halt.
The men began setting up camp while the women busied themselves preparing supper.
Ophelia’s group prepared their own meal.
There were too many mouths to feed for them to depend on the count’s household.
As the family that ran the kingdom’s greatest merchant company, Count Dace’s people laid out a rich spread of ingredients.
In contrast, the only things set before Ophelia’s group were a simple soup made with dried vegetables, meat, and cheese, along with hard bread and water.
Ophelia did not feel discouraged.
What was the point of comparing meals now?
She took the first bite with obvious enjoyment, and the others soon began eating as well.
Perhaps because of the hunger from the long road, it felt no less satisfying than a royal feast.
A short distance away, Count Dace’s family was also eating.
“How miserable. How can they eat that?”
Nea’s third half-sister muttered mockingly.
“Everyone can hear you. At least be quiet like a lady while eating.”
At Nea’s calm warning, the girl immediately tried to retort, but her mother—the count’s third wife—tugged at her sleeve.
Pouting, she turned her head sharply away.
“But Sister, Count Rude should eat too, shouldn’t he? I’ll go invite him.”
The fourth daughter, child of the second wife, was just like her mother—hypocrisy disguised as innocence.
Nea snorted inwardly but answered maturely.
“Father said Count Rude wants to eat quietly alone, so no one is to disturb him. Understood?”
“Yes, Sister.”
“Nea, take this to Ophelia.”
Her older brother Liam said as he placed a thick-cut steak on a plate.
Nea glanced cautiously at her mother.
Born the eldest daughter of the ancient and prestigious Palmer count family of the Empire, her mother had married Dace to restore her declining house with his considerable wealth.
Countess Dace was an extremely conservative and rigid woman.
She had never liked how close Ophelia—a mere baron’s daughter—was to Liam.
Sure enough, she reacted immediately.
“Nea should eat her supper too. Send it through a maid.”
“Very well.”
Liam smiled and obediently handed the plate to a maid.
He did have some degree of fondness for Ophelia.
But not enough to defy his mother and take Ophelia as his wife.
When night fell, the weary travelers went to sleep early.
Deep in the night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Ophelia quietly called Jonathan into her tent.
“Jonathan, we need to post a night watch tonight.”
“Miss, is something wrong?”
“This is an area where bandits appear often. There’s no harm in being careful.”
In her past life, many people had lost their lives in this very forest.
“Yes. I’ll stand watch too.”
“And quietly warn Count Dace’s side as well.”
“Understood.”
At the same time, a man suddenly appeared before the tent where Myr was staying.
