Night draped itself heavily over the Royal Capital.
Lunethia and Hunter scaled the high palace walls in silence, their forms two flickering ghosts under the silver moon as they darted through the desolate streets toward the city's edge.
Throughout their flight, Hunter utilized his extraordinary agility and masterful stealth to guide Lunethia past patrol after patrol of sentries. It was only when they reached the oppressive silence of the deep woods beyond the city gates that he finally came to a halt.
Hunter released Lunethia's hand, his voice dropping to a jagged whisper.
"I can take you no further."
Lunethia leaned forward, chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She looked out at the dark, looming silhouettes of the forest, her face clouded with confusion.
"We... we're stopping here?"
Hunter shook his head grimly.
"The Queen is a terror beyond your imagining," he said, his tone sharpening with urgency. "From this moment on, your survival depends entirely on your own wits."
He stepped closer, his single eye locking onto hers.
"Head south. If the opportunity arises, cross the border and seek sanctuary within the territories of the Rebel Army." He paused, the gravity of his words hanging in the air. "But you must shroud your identity. Never let a soul know you are the Princess—whether they be common soldiers or desperate brigands."
Anxiety flared in Lunethia's expression. "But... can I truly do this alone?" She reached out, her voice trembling. "And what of you? If you let me escape... what will you tell Mother?"
Hunter was silent for a heartbeat.
"I must return," he said finally. "I will find a way to stall the Queen."
He reached into his cloak and produced a dagger and a heavy purse of coin, pressing them into Lunethia's hands.
"Go now. Put as much distance between yourself and this city as possible." His voice softened, a rare flicker of warmth breaking through his cold exterior. "Once the dust has settled, I will find a way to come for you."
Lunethia gripped the dagger tight, her eyes shimmering with a thin veil of tears.
"Keep yourself safe," Hunter continued, his voice steady. "I cannot explain everything to you now... but I give you my word."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"When I find you again, I will tell you the truth. All of it."
Lunethia remained silent for a long moment, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her. Finally, she summoned her courage to speak.
"Hunter..." her voice trembled. "Why? Why does Mother want me dead?"
Hunter's gaze darkened. He lapsed into a heavy silence before answering in a low, gravelly tone.
"I do not know for certain." He paused, his expression troubled. "But I have my suspicions."
Lunethia stared at him, hanging on his every word. Hunter lowered his voice even further, as if fearing the very trees might be listening.
"For years now, I have felt that something is... wrong with the Queen. It is as if she is no longer the Queen Selphira we once knew."
Lunethia's breath hitched. She bit her lower lip, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you saying... she might not be my mother?"
Hunter fell silent again, seemingly lost in memory. "The Queen Selphira of old was a person of light," he said slowly. "She was vibrant, easy-going, and kind, no matter the circumstance."
He looked up at the moonless sky.
"She was like pure moonlight, bringing grace to the darkest nights. But Her Majesty now... though she still wears the face of that moon, she radiates nothing but the biting chill and terror of the void."
He shook his head slightly. "Many believe the King's death shattered her spirit. At first, I shared that belief. But can grief truly warp a person's soul to such a horrific extent?"
Lunethia looked down, the silence between them growing heavy. She took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting to steady her racing heart. When she finally looked up at Hunter, a new flicker of resolve had replaced the fear in her eyes.
"I understand..." she said, her voice strengthening. "Thank you, Hunter."
She tucked the dagger and the heavy purse carefully into her tunic, then offered Hunter a deep, silent bow. Without another word, she turned and bolted into the heart of the thicket.
Hunter remained where he stood, watching her retreating figure. Only when the darkness of the woods had swallowed her whole did he let out a long, weary sigh. Then, he too turned and vanished into the night.
Under the silver gaze of the moon, the forest felt deep and thick with secrets. Lunethia, clad in a nondescript grey cloak, ran alone along a narrow trail. The world around her was deathly still, save for the rhythmic rustle of the wind through the high canopy.
Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her mind was a storm of unanswered questions. She could not fathom why her mother—or the woman wearing her mother's face—would order her execution. Was it possible that the Queen had truly been replaced? And if so, when had the deception begun? The thoughts tangled in her mind like a knot of thorns, impossible to unravel.
Yet, she did not slow down. Lunethia pushed forward, weaving through the flickering patterns of moonlight and shadow. She heard only the whistling wind, the snap of dry twigs, and—perhaps—the faint, distant rustle of pursuing footsteps.
She did not stop. She did not dare look back.
But Lunethia was a creature of the palace, unaccustomed to the rigors of the wild. In her desperate flight, she failed to see the treacherous roots snaking across the path. As she lunged through a patch of darkness, her foot caught—
Snap!
She pitched forward, tumbling into a thick cluster of brambles. The sound of breaking branches cracked through the silent forest like a gunshot.
Lunethia gasped as a sharp sting radiated through her body. Sitting up, she cradled her hands, wincing at the grit-filled scrapes on her palms. The small wounds pulsed with a raw, stinging heat.
At that moment—
A burst of misplaced laughter shattered the silence of the forest. Lunethia snapped her head up.
Two patrol soldiers, clad in the official uniform of the Lunaris Kingdom, stepped out from the obsidian shadows of the trees. One of them looked at her and laughed aloud.
"And here I thought we had a terrifying monster on our hands."
His gaze raked over Lunethia from head to toe, a greasy, unsettling smile pulling at his lips.
"Turns out it's just a delicate little thing." He began to pace toward her, his movements slow and deliberate. "Running into the woods all alone at this hour... that wasn't a very clever choice, little sister."
The soldier beside him chuckled. "Careful now, brother. You're going to frighten her."
Despite his mock-gentle tone, his eyes were just as predatory as he scrutinized her. "How about this, little sister?" he said with a grin. "Why don't you come back with us? We can protect you."
He paused, his voice dropping into a lewd, mocking lilt. "Besides, the night wind is so cold... a big brother could help keep you warm."
The two men exchanged a look and let out a low, guttural laugh. They began to close in, one step at a time.
Lunethia's face went deathly pale. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand, her hands shaking as she whipped the dagger from her tunic and pointed it at them.
"Don't—don't come any closer!"
Her voice trembled violently. The lead soldier blinked in surprise, then his expression twisted into one of dark excitement.
"Oho, she's got some spirit." He bared his teeth in a jagged grin. "I like them like that."
The other soldier narrowed his eyes. "Now, this is a problem," he said, feigning concern as he held up his hands. "She's actually carrying a weapon."
He looked at his companion, his tone dripping with sinister intent. "Brother, it looks like we'll have to perform a thorough search. We need to make sure she isn't a 'dangerous person,' after all."
The two men closed in, their shadows stretching long and jagged over the forest floor. Lunethia's hands shook so violently the dagger nearly slipped from her numb fingers. She took a stumbling step back. Then another.
On the third step, her back slammed against the rough, unforgiving bark of an ancient tree. There was nowhere left to run. Lunethia's heart plummeted into a cold abyss of despair.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!"
A clear, vibrant voice rang out through the trees—unmistakably the voice of a young woman. Both soldiers spun around, their hands dropping to the hilts of their swords.
Standing at the edge of the clearing was a tall girl with sun-kissed, healthy tan skin. A forest-green cloak was draped casually over her shoulders, left open to reveal a practical, form-fitting outfit designed for agility and speed. The tight fabric traced the lines of a lithe, athletic frame. Her deep brown hair was pulled into a high, spirited ponytail that swayed in the night wind, and her bright eyes sparkled with a sense of reliable, breezy confidence.
When the soldiers realized the newcomer was just another young woman, their predatory sneers returned.
"Well now, what a lucky night," one of them drawled, a lewd grin spreading across his face. "Must be our birthday. The gods knew we were lonely and sent us two beauties instead of one."
He gestured with his chin toward Lunethia before fixing his gaze on the girl in green. "Why don't you join the party, little sister? There's plenty of warmth to go around."
The girl in the ponytail furrowed her brow in disgust. But a second later, a relaxed, playful smile returned to her lips.
"Not interested," she said flippantly. She gave a casual nod toward Lunethia. "Besides, that lady over there doesn't look like she's much of a fan of yours, either."
Her tone remained light, but her gaze sharpened into two piercing points of light. "Walk away now, and I'll pretend this never happened."
The soldiers' faces twisted with sudden, wounded pride.
"You little bitch!" one of them spat, his voice thick with rage. "You think you're in a position to let us go?"
Before the words could even leave their mouths, both men lunged forward, their hands outstretched to seize the girl.
But she was faster.
With a fluid side-step, she evaded their grasp with effortless grace. In the next heartbeat, she dropped her center of gravity and twisted her hips, channeling power from the ground up.
THUD! THUD!
Two lightning-fast punches landed simultaneously, striking both soldiers squarely in the gut. The force of the impact was immense, folding the men like paper as they collapsed to their knees, gasping for air.
One of them, snarling through the pain, managed to scramble back to his feet and drew his longsword with a desperate roar. The steel flashed cold in the moonlight, but before he could even begin his downswing, the girl was inside his guard. She snatched his wrist, spun her body with the momentum, and wrenched his arm behind his back.
"AGH—!"
The soldier let out a strangled cry of agony as his wrist was forced into a punishing lock. His sword hit the forest floor with a heavy clatter.
Just as the second soldier struggled to reach for his own weapon, the frantic rhythm of hoofbeats erupted from the trail ahead.
Clatter-clack, clatter-clack!
Six figures emerged from the forest gloom, galloping toward the clearing. They were draped in forest-green cloaks that obscured their faces, appearing like emerald ghosts under the silver moon. Behind them, they led a single, riderless horse.
The atmosphere in the clearing turned frigid. The soldier pinned to the ground looked up, his face draining of all color as he recognized the uniforms.
"The... The Goblin Miners?!?"
The girl, still pinning her captive, casually raised a foot and delivered a brutal kick to the other soldier, sending him sprawling into the dirt. She smiled brightly—a expression that didn't match the lethality of the situation.
"Hehe, so you've heard of us," she chirped, tilting her head with an air of mock innocence. Her tone was as light as a joke, yet her words were razor-sharp. "Well, in that case... I suppose we'll have to kill you to keep our little secret."
The soldiers' eyes bulged with sheer terror.
"You... you lot were supposed to have fled already!"
The lead rider, still mounted, spoke in a voice as cold as the midnight frost. "Rena. Stop playing with your food. We're on a schedule."
The girl—Rena—stuck out her tongue and flashed a mischievous grin. "Got it, Boss!"
She carelessly shoved the captive soldier to the dirt, then stooped to retrieve the longsword that had fallen earlier. In the next heartbeat—
Shlick! Shlick!
Two cold gleams of steel sliced through the air. The blades pierced the soldiers' throats with surgical precision. They didn't even have time to gasp before their bodies went limp, the life draining into the forest floor.
As if this were merely a routine chore, Rena knelt down and began expertly stripping the corpses of anything valuable.
One of the other riders reached up and pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing a strikingly handsome face bathed in moonlight. His long, golden hair was tied back in a loose queue, and his expression was one of absolute composure.
"Leave the bodies," he said, his tone flat and practical. "There are wolf packs nearby. They'll handle the cleanup for us."
With that, he dismounted in one fluid motion and approached Lunethia. Stopping a respectful distance away, he offered a warm, disarmingly friendly smile.
"Are you alright, my lady?"
His golden hair shimmered faintly under the moon, radiating a natural charisma that commanded trust. He pulled off his glove and extended his right hand toward her.
Lunethia hesitated for a fraction of a second before tucking her dagger back into her tunic and reaching out. The golden-haired man gently helped her to her feet.
"Thank... thank you," she whispered, her head bowed.
The man kept his smile fixed on her, though his voice remained inquisitive. "I must admit, I'm a bit curious. Who might you be, my lady? Where do you hail from, and what brings you to these woods alone at such an hour?"
Lunethia's heart skipped a beat. "I... I..."
She shook her head frantically, her voice trembling. "I'm just a traveler... yes, just an ordinary person. I was simply passing through."
The golden-haired man watched her in an oppressive silence.
Then, he let out a short, soft chuckle. This time, however, the warmth in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a calculating sharpness.
"An ordinary person?"
His gaze traveled slowly over Lunethia. "Your hands are not as soft as those of a sheltered lady; they show the calluses of someone accustomed to daily chores. By that measure, you could indeed pass for a girl from a common, well-to-do family."
His focus shifted to the hem of her cloak and her hair ornament. "But your clip, your cloak, even that silk nightgown peeking out from beneath..."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"They are of the highest quality," he said, his voice level and matter-of-fact. "Such things... even the wealthiest merchant families could scarcely afford them."
His gaze locked back onto Lunethia's face, his eyes seemingly able to peel back every layer of her deception.
"Therefore," he said with a faint smile, "My lady, you are highly suspicious."
SMACK!
Suddenly, Rena delivered a heavy, ringing blow to the golden-haired man's back.
"That's enough, Karl! Stop terrifying the poor girl."
The force of the strike nearly sent Karl stumbling forward, and he let out a wry, helpless laugh.
"Rena... easy on the strength," he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. "You know exactly what I'm doing."
Rena glanced at Lunethia, offering her a reassuring and comforting smile. "I know you're looking out for our safety," she shrugged, "but is there really a need to scare her half to death?"
Karl sighed, shaking his head. "You interrupted me so quickly—aren't you even a little worried she might be a plant from our enemies?"
Rena couldn't help but laugh. "Hehe, if she were actually an enemy, would you be standing there calling her 'suspicious'?" She arched an eyebrow playfully. "You'd have drawn your sword long ago."
Karl remained silent for a heartbeat before raising his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.
"Fine, fine. I concede. No immediate threat... for now."
The lead rider, who had remained mounted throughout the exchange, cast a sharp, sweeping glance at the surrounding woods.
"If patrols have reached this area," his voice was low and calculated, "then it is highly likely this forest has been integrated into their regular scouting routes." He gave a sharp tug on his reins. "We are heading back to the village. Now."
Rena looked back at Lunethia, then at the two cooling corpses nearby. "And what about her?" she asked, gesturing toward the girl. "Two soldiers just died here. We can't exactly leave her alone in the middle of this mess, can we?"
The leader remained silent for a heartbeat, his silhouette stark against the moonlight.
"She is of no concern to us," he said flatly.
Lunethia's heart plummeted. A cold voice whispered in the back of her mind—if these people abandoned her now, her story would have only one ending.
Summoning every ounce of her courage, she stepped forward until she stood directly before the leader's horse. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Please..." her voice was soft, trembling with a desperate sincerity. "Help me..."
The moonlight bathed her face, illuminating eyes as deep as a midnight sky and lips as soft as blooming red roses.
The leader stiffened, momentarily stunned by the sight. He averted his gaze with an uncharacteristic brusqueness, a faint, unbidden heat rising to his cheeks. He reached up, pulling his hood lower to mask his expression.
After a tense silence, he finally spoke.
"Rena."
"Your mess. Your responsibility. You carry her."
Without waiting for a reply, he snapped the reins and guided his horse into a brisk turn, leading the way out of the clearing.
Rena immediately beamed, waving Lunethia over. "Alright then! Come on!"
With a graceful spring, Rena vaulted onto the back of the riderless horse and extended a hand. "Here, take my hand."
Lunethia hesitated for only a second before reaching out. Rena pulled with effortless strength, hoisting the girl up onto the saddle behind her.
Though Lunethia's heart was still heavy with doubt and the shadows of the unknown, she felt a flicker of relief. For now, at least, she had found sanctuary.
As the horses broke into a gallop, disappearing into the veil of night, the gears of her fate shifted once more—spinning toward a destination she could never have imagined.