Chapter 22
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The Shadow of the Other Maid
Amarantha moved through one of the inner corridors of the Palace of the Sovereigns, surrounded by statues and marble pillars, alongside a group of Cloth maids. All of them walked in silence, without saying a single word.
At last, they arrived at a spacious hall, with a high ceiling and pale marble walls. It was not as ornate as the banquet halls, but it preserved the same cold elegance of the palace. At the far end, before them, the Supervisor of the maids was waiting. She, too, wore a mask.
The maids entered and arranged themselves in orderly lines, one beside the other, as they were already accustomed to doing. Amarantha stood among them, motionless. The Supervisor waited a minute before speaking.
"Cloth maids of the palace, gathered in this place… I have summoned you today to remind you of something you must never forget."
Her voice was cold and controlled.
"From the moment you passed through the Stable and were handed over to the palace, you ceased to be who you once were."
She paused briefly.
"Your roots, your surnames, your houses, your bonds, your past… all of that ceased to exist."
Not a single maid moved.
"You are now part of the palace's assets. You belong to this place and are at the disposal of whatever services may be required here."
The room remained silent.
"That is why you must remember what your function is."
The Supervisor slowly swept her gaze along the line.
"To serve. To obey. To remain available. To carry out every order within the limits established by your role."
Then she added:
"You all know the rules. You all know their scope. And you all know the consequences of forgetting what you are."
Amarantha kept her gaze lowered.
"So far, you have carried out your duties as required. However, compliance is not a choice. It is a permanent obligation."
Her words landed with greater weight.
"If any of you ever disobeys, resists, damages palace property, or acts outside her function, she already knows what the cost will be."
The silence grew heavier.
"Have you understood?"
All the maids bowed their heads at the same time.
"Understood, Mistress."
The Supervisor watched them for a few more seconds.
"Good."
She paused one last time before ordering:
"Withdraw and return to the duties assigned to you."
The maids bowed their heads once more and began to leave the hall in silence, returning to the palace like pieces moving back into their proper place.
Amarantha turned around along with the other maids. As they made their way toward the exit, she observed several of them out of the corner of her eye, without moving her head too much. They all walked in silence, with the same obedient posture as always. Even so, something did not fit.
That reminder made no sense. Not in that way. The Supervisor would not have gathered so many maids merely to repeat rules they all knew since the Stable. If she had done it, there had to be a reason. Something had happened.
Amarantha continued walking with the rest, but her gaze discreetly scanned the rows. Then she noticed it. The maid with reddish hair was not there. T4. She remembered her because she had been the last one with whom she had attended a hall before the Supervisor took her away to serve elsewhere. The hall where the Clobheis were.
Amarantha kept her expression empty beneath the mask. She did not stop. She simply kept moving forward in silence, while that absence remained fixed in her mind.
Hours passed.
After an active day, Amarantha returned to her room after bathing. She lay down on the bed and remained staring at the ceiling, motionless, as the silence of the night began to envelop the room.
Her mind returned to the meeting.
To the Supervisor's words.
To the reminder.
And then, inevitably, back to T4.
"Why wasn't she there at that moment?" she murmured to herself.
Her voice sounded low, almost extinguished.
"She worked in the same sector as I did. If she had been from somewhere else, I could understand it… but no."
She fell silent for a few seconds, her gaze fixed upward.
Then she remembered that moment when she had entered the hall where the Clobheis were. She also remembered the words of the Sovereigns, spoken with evident displeasure:
"They should not allow them to enter here."
Amarantha remained still.
She had not heard of them before, except for that one time. She did not know exactly who they were or what kind of reputation they carried, but the rejection of the other Sovereigns had been enough to leave her with a clear sign.
They were not simple guests.
Or, at least, they were not ordinary guests.
Her thoughts returned once again to T4, to the last time she had seen her beside her, before she was taken away to attend that hall.
Amarantha closed her eyes for a moment and murmured:
"I hope she is well."
Then she opened them again, once more staring fixedly at the ceiling, while that maid's absence continued to occupy her mind.
Amarantha kept looking at the ceiling with dull eyes, lost in her own thoughts.
"I have been lucky so far," she murmured.
As she said that, different memories passed through her mind: unfamiliar hands touching her without permission, fingers tracing her body, voices of Sovereigns speaking to her as though she were not a person. Situations she had endured in silence, without moving, without reacting.
But none of them had yet crossed the line she feared most.
She remained silent for a few seconds.
"However…"
Her gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling.
Then she remembered other scenes. Private halls. Closed doors. Sovereigns enjoying Cloth maids as if they were mere objects of pleasure. Women still, obedient, empty, subjected to the whims of those who held power over them.
Amarantha breathed slowly.
"It will not be like this forever."
She said it without emotion, as an inevitable conclusion.
Until that moment, she had managed to avoid the worst. She had been lucky. But in that place, luck was not a defense. It was only a delay.
"That is why I must be prepared for the worst," she whispered. "I cannot allow these moments to make me lower my guard."
After saying it, she remained motionless, her body sunk into the bed and her mind still alert, as if even rest could become a threat.
Then she brought a hand to the nape of her neck, carefully moving part of her hair aside. From there, she took out a tiny vial, barely three centimeters long.
She held it between her fingers and remained looking at it.
The small container rested in her hand like something insignificant. Fragile. Silent. But Amarantha knew perfectly well what it contained.
Then her mind returned to a memory.
She was with Victor, in a closed room. On the table were documents, several lit candles, and a silence difficult to break.
"Amarantha," he said.
She raised her gaze.
Victor placed a small vial on the table.
"I have to give you something."
Amarantha observed the object for a few seconds. Upon recognizing it, her expression changed only slightly.
"It is purple hamanatia."
Victor nodded.
"That is correct."
There was a brief pause before he continued:
"They call it the peace of the soul," Victor said. "Because, when it is drunk, a deep calm envelops your body and your mind. The eyes close beneath a serene sleep… without pain, without fear. Never to open them again."
Amarantha said nothing.
Victor lowered his gaze slightly toward the vial.
"It was difficult for me to obtain."
The silence between them grew heavier.
After a few seconds, Victor spoke again:
"I know this is not among your options. And I also truly hope that you can leave the palace someday."
He looked at her seriously.
"But I want you to know that, if ever… only in the hypothetical case that one day you no longer have any option left…"
He paused briefly.
"This way out will be better than any other."
Amarantha remained still.
Then she took the vial and put it away without saying a single word.
Victor watched her in silence, understanding her answer.
"It is good that you understand."
Amarantha lowered her gaze for an instant.
"Do not worry, Victor."
The memory faded.
Back in her room, Amarantha was still looking at the small vial between her fingers. For a few seconds, she did nothing. She only contemplated it in silence, with the same dull expression as always.
Finally, she hid it back in its place.
Then she lay down once more, looking at the ceiling.
Little by little, her eyes began to close, until sleep finally overtook her.
______________
The Legacy of Ego
The slow movements of a bed could be heard inside a private room connected to one of the great halls of the Palace of the Sovereigns.
Ronald was lying on a bed covered by blinds and light fabrics to provide greater privacy. Around him, a naked woman and man were pleasing themselves with his body. The woman kissed and licked his neck and chest, while the man descended between his legs, devoted to pleasing him.
In the same room, though at a short distance from the bed, there was another Sovereign named Trabus. He remained still, seated in an armchair, listening to the moans and sounds coming from the bed. He looked uncomfortable with the situation, as if he were only waiting for everything to end so they could talk.
Nearly thirty minutes passed. During that time, more things happened behind the bed's curtains, while Trabus remained there, uncomfortable, hearing everything without daring to interrupt.
Finally, the man and the woman came out wearing very little. Before leaving, the woman looked at Trabus and gave him a provocative farewell wave.
Then Ronald came out, calmly adjusting himself, and said to him:
"I am somewhat sorry for the wait, Trabus."
Trabus replied at once, maintaining his composure:
"Do not worry, Ronald. I understand that you were…"
As Ronald sat down in one of the armchairs, Trabus finished the sentence:
"…enjoying yourself."
Ronald smiled naturally.
"I always enjoy myself."
Trabus let out a small laugh, still somewhat uncomfortable.
"And your sister as well, I imagine."
"Well, she always enjoys herself more than I do," Ronald replied, letting out a faint laugh.
Trabus returned the laugh, more out of courtesy than anything else.
"I imagine so."
Then Ronald looked at him with an amused expression.
"And have you not enjoyed yourself with her?"
At the question, Trabus reacted with a nervous laugh.
"No, no, no. How could you think that? Not at all."
He said it carefully, making sure not to say anything that might sound wrong.
"I have not even crossed paths with her yet."
Ronald let out a soft laugh.
"Do not worry. Nothing will happen. You can say whatever you want about her. I do not care. I know my sister."
Trabus adjusted his posture slightly and replied:
"Well, I have nothing bad to say about either of you, so there is no need. I simply like the way you enjoy things."
Ronald smiled, satisfied with the answer.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Ronald turned his head slightly.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a Cloth maid entered with a tray. She carried clean glasses and a bottle of wine. Without saying a word, she advanced toward a cabinet at one side of the hall and began to serve.
"It was about time," Trabus said.
Ronald took one of the glasses the maid had served and, before drinking, looked at Trabus with some curiosity.
"You work for Fusuro as well, do you not?"
Trabus held the glass between his fingers.
"Let us say I will be working with him in a collaboration for part of his gold mine expansion projects."
"I understand," Ronald said.
He took a sip, without fully taking his eyes off him.
"But you work for him."
Trabus grew a little more serious. He could not contradict him without making himself look bad, but he also did not seem to like the way Ronald said it.
"Yes," he finally replied. "If that is what you want to hear."
Ronald smiled calmly.
"Do not worry, Trabus."
He settled more comfortably into the armchair, glass in hand.
"You have the privilege of participating in one of House Susaku's finest expansion ventures. The fact that this places you beneath Fusuro does not diminish your reputation. On the contrary. Many Sovereigns would wish to be in your position. Do you understand?"
Trabus listened to him in silence.
Ronald took another sip before adding:
"I told Pericles the same thing."
Then he raised his glass slightly, as though speaking of something obvious.
"There is no need to hide anything. What matters is that everyone will benefit from this. And if we are talking about opportunities for growth, your house will be the one to gain the most. Do you not think so?"
Trabus remained silent for a moment. The answer left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he could not deny the obvious.
"Yes… you are right."
He drank a little before continuing:
"I must acknowledge that it is an opportunity many would like to obtain."
Then he added, trying to regain his firmness:
"Besides, it is an expansion that requires a great deal of administration and resource management. In that regard, our house is the right one."
Ronald smiled, satisfied.
"That is the attitude."
He raised his glass.
Trabus looked at him for a second, then did the same.
Everything seemed calm, until the door suddenly opened.
Fusuro entered the room with a confident smile.
"The one you sent for has arrived."
Ronald looked up and smiled when he saw him.
"A pleasure to see you, cousin."
Fusuro opened his arms slightly as he recognized them.
"None other than my dear cousin… and Trabus."
"Hello, Fusuro," Trabus greeted, barely inclining his head.
Fusuro took a few steps inside and then looked toward the entrance.
"Allow me to introduce my guests."
Then Angelos entered, accompanied by several more Sovereigns.
"Hello, everyone," Angelos said, with a calm smile.
The other Sovereigns entered behind him, greeting them in murmurs.
"Greetings."
"Good evening."
"A pleasure."
Little by little, they all began taking seats around the hall. Each one settled according to his confidence, his rank, and his closeness to Fusuro.
The Cloth maid, noticing that there were no longer enough glasses, began moving toward the exit.
Fusuro saw her immediately.
"Where are you going, maid?"
She stopped and lowered her head.
"I will go fetch more wine and glasses, Your Majesty."
Fusuro made an impatient gesture with his hand.
"Hurry, hurry."
The maid withdrew in silence.
Fusuro settled into one of the armchairs, crossing his legs with absolute confidence. Then he looked at those present.
"Well then, Sovereigns… how have you spent these past few days?"
Most of them were Sovereigns belonging to the lands within Fusuro's circle, who had come to the palace to accompany him.
"Very well, Fusuro," one replied.
"Wonderfully," added another.
"It has been a very good experience," said a third.
"Excellent," Fusuro replied, pleased.
He reclined more comfortably in his seat and rested his feet at ease, as though the entire hall belonged to him.
"Everything you have seen so far will be nothing compared to what is to come. I have already spoken with my subordinates, the event has been arranged, everything is prepared, and the date has already been set."
Angelos looked at him with interest.
"And for what date will you hold it, Fusuro?"
"In a couple of months," Fusuro replied. "There will be enough time to prepare every detail."
One of the Sovereigns intervened:
"I heard that many Sovereigns from abroad will arrive."
Fusuro smiled.
"That is correct. And much more than that. Sovereigns will come even from lands beyond the Narrow Sea. It will be an interregional event."
At that moment, the Cloth maid returned with more glasses and bottles of wine. She entered in silence, approached the table, and began serving each of those present.
Fusuro continued speaking as though she did not exist.
"My celebration will have everything. Things you cannot even imagine. But I will not tell you too much, because I want it to be a surprise."
Another Sovereign smiled with curiosity.
"I heard that a gladiator tournament will also be organized."
"One unlike anything ever seen before," Fusuro replied. "The best gladiators from the regions will come here. Even fighters from lands beyond any other nearby region. We will have the most important gladiator event of the last decades."
One of the Sovereigns commented:
"I imagine the tickets to the coliseum will sell out immediately."
Fusuro looked at him with a certain disdain.
"I do not care about the tickets. The importance of this event does not lie in that."
He leaned forward slightly and swept his gaze over everyone.
"The importance of this event lies in the fact that I am the one organizing it."
He paused, letting everyone hear him.
"I. Fusuro of House Susaku."
Then he opened his arms with arrogance.
"When people see this grand event, they will think of who made it possible. And the answer will be simple."
He smiled with pride.
"Fusuro made it possible."
He lowered his arms again and continued:
"There will be games, tournaments, performances, executions… everything. It will be something never seen before."
One of the Sovereigns frowned slightly.
"Executions?"
Fusuro looked at him.
"Yes. Executions."
"And of whom?" another asked.
Fusuro made a careless gesture.
"We will find people. We can use murderers, thieves, or even traitors who have gone against the kingdom's regulations."
He merely shrugged.
"What do I know? My assistants will take care of finding meat for those spectacles."
Ronald smiled from his seat.
"It will be very entertaining."
"That is right, Ronald," Fusuro replied.
As the maid finished serving wine to everyone, Angelos took his glass and observed it for a moment before speaking.
"Then it will be a grand event. One of those that leaves a legacy. That leaves a mark. Something people will keep in their memory and will not forget."
Fusuro looked at him with satisfaction.
"That is right, my dear friend Angelos."
Angelos raised his glass.
"Then let us drink to that."
The others began to raise their glasses.
"To Fusuro," Angelos said. "And to the event that will go down in history."
They all lifted their glasses.
"To that."
"To that."
"To that."
The cups rose amid smiles, ambition, and expensive wine.
After the toast, Fusuro looked at Ronald.
"And Cassandra?"
Ronald drank a little before replying.
"She must be somewhere around the palace, enjoying herself."
Fusuro let out a faint smile, as if he knew her all too well.
"I see."
Then he turned his gaze back to the others and settled once more into his seat.
"Well then… tell me about yourselves."
After that, the Sovereigns began speaking of their whims, businesses, and matters related to Fusuro's circle, while the Cloth maid remained nearby, in silence, waiting for new orders.
______________
The Weight of Fear
In a tavern in a small village, amid the darkness of a cloudy night, several members of the Rock Division were celebrating after a long day.
The place was rustic, with wooden walls and oil lamps that barely managed to maintain a warm light amid the smoke, the smell of beer, and the soldiers' voices. Outside, night had already fallen, but inside the establishment there was still noise, rest, and a momentary sense of relief.
At one of the main tables, Haralf was drinking alongside several Rock soldiers. He had a mug in his hand and spoke with that loud voice of his, one that carried even through the laughter filling the place.
"And that is how I told him: 'Hand that over if you do not want me to break every tooth you still have left.'"
Some of the soldiers burst into laughter.
Haralf took a drink and continued, laughing before finishing the story.
"The wretch was already missing plenty of teeth. And he understood that if no woman looked at him anymore as it was, they would do so even less if he ended up with none at all."
The men laughed again.
"You are a madman, Haralf," one of them said.
"And what happened after that?" another asked, leaning over the table.
Haralf let out another laugh and kept speaking, surrounded by mugs, blows against the wood, and soldiers who, for one night, seemed to have forgotten the weight of their duties.
At another table, a little farther from the main noise, sat Gina, Leandro, and Diana. There, the atmosphere was different. Calmer. Gina drank beer in peace, while Diana held a cup of tea between her hands. Leandro, on the other hand, remained silent, looking at Haralf from afar with an expression of clear disapproval.
"And that is supposed to be our commander?" he murmured.
Diana turned toward him immediately.
"That is enough, Leandro."
Gina, without becoming upset, let out a small smile before speaking.
"Believe me, Leandro. When you spend a great deal of time watching over places, protecting establishments, moving resources, and managing all kinds of things, sometimes a short rest is not a bad thing."
Leandro did not take his eyes off Haralf.
"He seems more like a reckless drunkard to me, and hardly exemplary."
Gina let out a faint laugh, but Diana frowned.
"That is enough, Leandro. You have not stopped complaining about him. Understand that he is our commander."
Gina set her mug down on the table and looked at him with a certain calm.
"I like you, Leandro, but Diana is right. Besides, Haralf may be a drinker and somewhat stubborn at times, but he is a great commander."
Then she smiled a little and added:
"Be glad they did not send you to Sapphire. You would truly be in trouble there."
Leandro lowered his gaze slightly.
"I would have been a burden in Sapphire. Combat is not my strength. I barely know how to use a sword."
He paused, looking once again toward the table where Haralf was celebrating with the other soldiers.
"Although… it is not as if I feel very useful here either, after all."
Gina observed him for a few seconds before replying:
"All in due time, boy."
Leandro said nothing. He simply looked away, pretending not to pay attention.
On the other side of the tavern, amid laughter and glasses striking the table, one of the soldiers asked Haralf:
"And what about the new recruits?"
Haralf took a drink before answering.
"Fine, all fine."
One of the men looked toward the table set apart and commented:
"Well, I noticed there are some youngsters among you."
Haralf followed the direction of his gaze and let out a small laugh.
"Yes. I do not know why they sent them here. Diana, at least, is useful; she knows quite a lot about medicine, and her care will benefit us. But the other boy does not even know how to take off his boots."
The soldiers laughed.
"Hahaha!"
One of them, named Grutus, leaned over the table with a broad smile.
"Do you remember, Haralf? In our time, by that age I had already killed more enemies and slept with more women than many men in this place."
Haralf burst out laughing.
"Grutus, always such a loudmouth."
Another soldier, somewhat more serious, commented:
"Well, perhaps it has become harder to find people."
Haralf set his mug down on the table. For a moment, his expression lost part of its cheer.
"It has not been easy."
He took another drink before continuing:
"Lately, not many new members have been received."
The noise of the tavern continued around them, but a small pause settled over the table.
Haralf exhaled through his nose and took hold of the mug again.
"But well. We must keep going despite that."
At the other table, Leandro heard part of it, though he said nothing. After a few seconds, he stood up.
"Well, I am going to sleep. See you."
Diana also rose to her feet.
"Wait for me. I am going too."
Gina nodded from her seat.
"Have a good night. I will go in a while."
Leandro and Diana left the table and began walking toward the exit, leaving behind the warmth of the tavern, the soldiers' laughter, and Haralf's voice blending once again with the noise of the place.
Leandro left the tavern and walked down the main street of the small village. Outside, the night was cold and quiet. A few lamps hanging from the façades barely lit the road, leaving entire areas covered in shadow. In the distance, laughter and muffled voices could still be heard from inside the establishment.
Diana came out behind him. She walked a few steps faster until she caught up to him, then moved ahead, placing herself in front of him to force him to stop.
"What is it now?" Leandro asked, annoyed.
Diana looked at him seriously.
"Do you want to live long enough and not become a burden?"
Leandro frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"I am talking about the way you treat your superiors."
Leandro let out a dry laugh.
"My superiors? Did you see how he was drinking?"
"That does not matter," Diana replied. "One way or another, they are our leaders. We are under their command, and we must act accordingly."
Leandro looked away, irritated.
"Look, Diana, I do not have time for arguments."
He passed by her and kept walking. Diana remained behind him, but raised her voice enough to stop him.
"Do you not think about your sister?"
Leandro stopped.
The street fell silent for a moment.
"Yes," he replied, without turning around. "Of course I think about her."
Diana took a few steps toward him.
"Then do not let that disrespect become a problem. If you keep going like this, you could end up being expelled. And if that happens, what will become of her?"
Leandro remained still for a few seconds. Then he opened his hands slightly, as if he wanted to cut the conversation short.
"All right. We had better go."
He started walking again, but after only a few steps, he stopped abruptly.
In the distance, near another establishment beside the trees, an orange light began to grow among the shadows.
Leandro narrowed his eyes.
"Wait."
Diana looked in the same direction.
Suddenly, the fire rose with greater force. The flames began to devour part of the building, and almost at the same time, several men mounted on horseback appeared, entering the village amid shouts and blows.
They were bandits.
Leandro reacted immediately.
"Run, Diana!"
He took her by the hand, and both of them broke into a run.
The noise erupted behind them. Doors opening, people screaming, horses striking the ground, and armed men breaking into the streets. From the tavern, several members of the Rock Division came out upon hearing the attack and rushed to confront the bandits.
The tranquility of the village shattered in a matter of seconds.
Haralf heard the commotion from inside the tavern and came out immediately with several men from the Rock Division. Gina also came out after them, taking up her weapon as soon as she understood what was happening.
When they reached the street, the scene was already chaos. Several bandits had stormed into the village on horseback, while others advanced on foot among the establishments, breaking down doors, looting whatever they found, and setting fire to some of the buildings.
"To your positions!" Haralf shouted.
The men of Rock reacted immediately. Some grouped together near the tavern, while others ran to cut off the bandits trying to advance down the main street. Haralf threw himself into the fight with axe in hand, forcing his way through the smoke, the screams, and the clash of steel.
But more appeared.
From the side roads, other bandits began entering the village, increasing the confusion. The flames spread across the wooden roofs, and people ran in every direction seeking shelter.
Diana and Leandro, trapped in the middle of the chaos, took refuge inside a nearby establishment. They closed the door as best they could and stayed there, listening to the sounds of battle from outside. The noise of horses, blows against wood, and the cries of the wounded drew closer and closer.
Then a burning arrow pierced one of the windows and fell inside the establishment.
The fire caught quickly on some dry fabrics. The flames began climbing up a wall.
"We have to get out," Diana said.
Leandro looked at the fire, then at the door. He nodded with difficulty.
Both of them left the place and found themselves once again among men fighting in the street. One of the bandits saw them immediately.
"Over there!"
Leandro took Diana by the hand and ran. They crossed through the smoke and the bodies moving in the darkness, dodging blows and shoves, until they slipped into another, smaller establishment.
But the bandit followed them.
And he was not alone.
Several men entered after them, blocking the exit. Diana stepped back, searching for some place through which to escape. Leandro drew his sword, but as soon as he held it in his hands, his body stopped responding.
The steel trembled.
The bandits advanced.
Leandro tried to raise his sword, but he was paralyzed. His fingers clutched the hilt clumsily, his legs would not obey, and fear emptied his mind. He could only watch as those men drew closer.
Then the door burst open.
Gina entered with several men of Rock and threw herself against the bandits. The fight erupted inside the establishment, violent and confined. Tables were overturned, chairs shattered against the floor, and the sound of steel filled the room.
Gina fought firmly, covering Diana and Leandro's advance, but suddenly an arrow came in from outside and lodged itself in the upper part of her chest.
Her body tensed.
Then she fell to the floor.
"No!" Diana shouted.
She ran to her and knelt at her side.
"Hold on, Gina! Hold on!"
Gina tried to push herself up slightly, but the wound forced her to remain on the floor.
"I am fine…" she murmured.
But she could barely speak.
Diana pressed her hands against the wound, trying to contain the blood as best she could.
Then another bandit entered the establishment.
He saw Diana leaning over Gina and advanced straight toward them with his weapon raised.
Diana turned her head, desperate.
"Leandro!"
Leandro was beneath a table, curled up, with his hands covering his head. He was shivering, unable to move.
"Leandro!" Diana shouted again.
But he did not react.
The bandit kept approaching.
Diana tried to shield Gina with her own body, not knowing what else to do.
Just as the man was about to reach them, Haralf's axe came down violently onto the back of his neck. The bandit collapsed instantly.
Haralf entered the establishment, breathing heavily, covered in dust and blood, with his sword still gripped in his other hand. He quickly approached Gina and crouched beside her.
"Gina."
She barely opened her eyes.
"Haralf…"
Outside, the battle continued. The screams, the fire, and the clash of weapons kept growing through the night.
Then two more bandits burst into the establishment.
Haralf raised his gaze immediately.
The first entered with his sword held high, lunging straight toward him. Haralf rose to his feet at once and stopped the attack with his own blade. The clash of steel resounded inside the place. Without giving him time to retreat, Haralf pushed the blade aside and drove his sword through his chest with a sharp motion.
The second tried to circle around him to reach Diana and Gina.
Haralf turned toward him, tore the axe from the corpse near him, and hurled it with force. The weapon crossed the space and lodged itself in the bandit's torso, making him fall against a broken table.
For an instant, the establishment fell silent, except for the distant noise of combat and the crackling of the fire outside.
Haralf breathed deeply and looked toward the door, ready to return to the fight. But then he saw Leandro.
The young man was still beneath the table, with his back turned, his head covered between his hands. His body was trembling uncontrollably.
Diana was still pressing Gina's wound with whatever she had at hand.
Haralf clenched his jaw.
He looked at Gina.
Then he looked back at Leandro, still sunk in fear.
He approached the second fallen bandit, tore the axe from his body, and walked toward the door.
"Do not go, please," Diana said, her voice broken.
Haralf stopped for an instant.
For a moment, he seemed torn between going out to continue fighting or staying there.
Then he looked outside, where the battle continued, and replied firmly:
"Do not worry. I will make sure no one gets in here."
Before leaving, he looked back at Leandro from a distance. He said nothing. He only watched him for a second, with a hard expression, difficult to read.
Then he looked away and went outside to keep fighting.
Leandro remained beneath the table, motionless, trapped in his own fear.
"Let it pass… let it pass quickly… let it pass quickly…"
He repeated the words again and again, barely in a murmur, while his heart pounded hard inside his chest.
Outside, the night kept burning.
And every second grew more tense.