The cage jolted with every step of the carriage. Inside were men of all types, each one a story waiting to unfold. I studied them all.
One man, broad-shouldered and muscular, glared at me. "What are you looking at, huh?!"
I shrugged and turned my gaze elsewhere. The Princess sure picked a lot of people—a warrior, a brawler, a guard, and some little boy with a surprisingly good-looking face but frail body. But who am I to say? I'm hardly sturdy myself. I sighed and went back to studying the captives.
Some whispered, some wept, some stared blankly at the horizon. A few seemed… almost glad. Confidence in their looks, maybe.
I noted every twitch, every glance. Fear twisted their faces differently—some tried to hide it, some wore it like armor. Some would break first. Some might last longer than the Princess expected.
The carriage lurched again, and a guard on horseback barked an order I didn't need to hear: "Sit still! No talking!"
I stayed still. I said nothing. Observation was safer than words.
The countryside blurred past—fields of gold, forests dark and endless, villages like the one I'd just left. The wind smelled of dust and horse sweat. For the first time since being sold, I wondered if survival meant keeping my mouth shut—or if I'd need to do something more.
My stomach growled. My throat was dry.