From a safe distance, Zara, Derek, and Alice watched the movement in the village. Everything had turned out well—or at least it seemed so. The lack of agonized screams made the princess believe that.
They were hidden behind a small rise, so from afar it was almost impossible for anyone to see them.
"That went well," Derek said with a sigh.
"I don't want to imagine what would have happened if they'd found us," Zara added.
"We'd probably have a hole in our heads, courtesy of your sister," Alice replied.
"You two, maybe. Not me."
"As if that would make it better," Derek muttered.
The group set off. When they fled, they had deliberately moved away from the road to avoid unexpected encounters, and they planned to continue their journey across the meadows.
"Let's make our way to Fisherman's Rest immediately. With luck, we'll arrive without further problems," Alice said, pulling the map from the bag.
"On horseback we would have taken two days. Now on foot, it might take us twice as long..." A shiver ran through the princess's body as she said that.
"We start walking now. Complain when we've been at it for two days," Alice replied.
The princess made a series of small grunts in the form of complaints but said nothing more.
"Hey, Zara," Derek said, approaching her.
"No, I won't complain about walking so much."
"Where's your brother?" Derek ignored what the princess said, asking his question.
Zara stopped short. She hadn't seen the group that had arrived at the village up close, but according to Lein's words, it consisted of Lord Halad, Olivia, and the Grand Sorceress. At no point did he mention Prince Callen, which seemed strange to her. Her brother was a figure who didn't go unnoticed.
"Good question."
The princess said nothing more and kept walking behind Alice, who had left them completely behind. Derek sighed and made his way after them as well.
"We'll keep advancing through the meadows. If possible, we'll avoid the villages along the way," Alice said, looking at the map.
Though she had set the question aside a bit, she couldn't help but wonder: Where had her brother ended up? He wasn't one to set aside an important matter. He had come after them too, surely. But if that were the case, where was he?
"Come on, Zara, don't fall behind," Derek told her.
"I'm coming."
The princess couldn't help but worry about her brother's whereabouts. He had become unpredictable, and that made him dangerous to them.
He advanced slowly on his horse—a solitary figure wearing a dirty, torn cloak. Beneath it, a gala suit, with two scimitars at his belt. His black hair, now loose, shone under the sunlight, and his emerald eyes fixed on the horizon, on the structure of Fisherman's Rest.
Dozens of wooden and stone houses, one to two stories high, with wavy roofs. From a distance, people could already be seen flooding the streets, and far off, what appeared to be a fort stood out—though part of it looked collapsed.
The strong smell of fish reached him shortly after, making him cough reflexively. At least the place lives up to its name, the prince thought.
In a few minutes, he finally reached his destination. The crowd paid him no attention—that was good. He didn't want to play the prince right now.
Around him, people went about their daily lives. Small groups headed to the sea carrying fishing gear, others moved boxes from place to place. He also saw some soldier patrols pass by, who didn't receive good looks from the villagers.
A few minutes later, he arrived at what appeared to be the inn—a fairly spacious structure with a hanging sign that read: "The Rotten Fish." A creative name, if your goal was to scare off customers, in the prince's opinion.
He left his horse tied with another group outside the place. Then he entered. The first floor was packed with people—drunks, barmaids, and a group in a corner playing music. For the name it had, it was quite a lively place.
As he walked to the bar, the prince drew looks. He didn't expect to go unnoticed, but luckily no one seemed to recognize him—he had the cloak that covered him completely to thank for that.
"I'm looking for some people," he said, sitting down in front of the innkeeper.
The man grunted in response. He didn't know if that was an "I'll help you" or a "Get lost." He really didn't want to find out either.
"A girl, sixteen years old, white hair, wearing a blue dress," he began to tell the man, drawing more of his attention. "Two people must be with her—a woman, tall, and a boy about her age. They always wear dark clothing."
The man stayed silent while cleaning a mug. Callen, for his part, tapped his fingers on the bar to the rhythm of the song playing in the place.
"I haven't received information about anyone like that," the man finally replied in a deep voice.
Callen sighed, reached under his cloak, and pulled out a gold coin, which he tossed to the innkeeper. The man, surprised, managed to catch it in the air.
"And what do you say now?"
The man sighed. Just as Callen had tossed him the coin, he tossed it back. The prince caught it, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"It seems you're new around here. I'd feel bad scamming you," he said, setting the now-clean mug aside. "I told the truth. No one like that has arrived here. Well, at least not with the first description."
"What? That can't be. Are you sure?"
"As sure as the sun hides at night."
That shouldn't be possible. According to his calculations, he should have arrived shortly after them or found them on the way. He thought his attack would be enough to seriously wound the woman, so he should have found them quickly.
Then, did they deviate from the road? He hadn't considered that possibility. If that was the case, it meant he had arrived here first—therefore, he no longer knew when they would appear. This chapter was taken from novelping.com without permission.
He let himself fall onto the bar, making the innkeeper step back a little. It had gone wrong. He had planned to attack them by surprise, knowing he would arrive shortly after. But now that he'd arrived first, he had to prepare to ambush them at any moment.
While he turned over his alternatives, the door was thrown wide open, and three pirates entered.
Pirates!? He thought as he put his hands inside his cloak, about to draw his scimitars. No, calm down! I must read the room. No one does anything, there's no reaction—it means this must be something that happens often.
Indeed, he assumed they were pirates since they dressed exactly as the books described. There were two men and one woman. One of the men wore a kerchief tied around his head, while the other sported a patch over his left eye.
The woman, for her part, had loose, messy brown hair, with a crab-shaped brooch. Additionally, on her face, she had a tattoo of a wave, the same blue as her eyes.
"Hey, friend, serve us the usual!" the woman in front spoke.
The innkeeper stopped cleaning the mug and began serving three drinks. The three people took seats near Callen, though he avoided looking at them directly.
Well, maybe they're just in disguise, he thought, not giving them much importance. I'm not up to date on the empire's fashions.
The three spoke among themselves, also ignoring Callen. The latter had lost himself in his thoughts. Should he stay here, perhaps retrace his steps, talk to the soldiers?
"Hey, if you're not going to drink anything, go to some table or something. You're taking up space," the innkeeper told him.
Callen looked at him with a sour face but obeyed, moving away to sit at a solitary table, where he lost himself in his thoughts once more.
He traced routes, created plans. If he had truly gotten ahead of his enemies, then he had to wait for them prepared—a single second would be a lost advantage.
"Hey, I hadn't seen your face around here."
Callen opened his eyes. Before him was the woman, resting her head on her hand, smiling from ear to ear. He frowned. Though he was focused on something else, he hadn't felt her approach in the slightest.
"I arrived recently."
They fell silent for a few seconds.
"I'm Lin. What's your name?" The woman extended her free hand to Callen, expecting him to shake it.
The prince hesitated but thought it was better to stay on these people's good side since he'd be going incognito. After all, he didn't want to draw unwanted attention.
"My name is Nellac," he said as he shook the woman's hand.
It was only for an instant, but he felt a tingling the moment their hands touched—he could feel his spirit tense, if that was even possible.
The woman withdrew her hand, and he did the same.
"So, Nellac," she began to say. "Do you plan to stay long?"
How insistent...
"No," Callen replied bluntly.
"That's good. You know, it's not a place for an outsider to live long."
You can say that again. The fish smell would suffocate me.
They fell silent again for a bit. The woman kept her smile, though it began to contort a little as she frowned.
"Friend, you're damn bad at holding a conversation."
"I don't recall asking you to converse with me."
"You wound my feelings," the woman said with feigned drama, bringing her hand to her forehead. "I just wanted to give you a warm welcome."
Callen looked toward the back, at the bar. The two accompanying her watched them with a very poorly disguised sour face.
"Are you looking at those two?" the woman said, following Callen's gaze. "Ignore them. They're just jealous."
"Jealous?"
"Yes. They only accompany me because they're after my backside. There aren't many women in our line of work." After saying that, she took a big gulp from her mug of beer.
How vulgar...
The woman mentioned something about her line of work, piquing the prince's curiosity, so he couldn't help but ask.
"What do you mean by 'line of work'?"
"You know—pirates," she replied calmly, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. "In the crew, there must be about four women, counting me."
So they are pirates. The stereotypes don't lie after all.
"You should be in prison if you're pirates," the prince said with a touch of disdain.
"Everyone says the same thing."
"Why aren't you?"
"That, dear Nellac, is the magician's secret, and a magician doesn't reveal his secrets."
She stood up from the table.
"Though in this case it's 'pirate' instead of 'magician,'" she said, frowning. "Well, you understand."
The woman stood up, giving a small spin around Callen, getting closer than the prince would like. She smiled and began to move away to join her companions, who kept giving Callen sour looks, leaving the prince somewhat confused.
"I hope you enjoy your stay, traveler."
I suspect I won't be able to, he thought as he stood up and went to tour the city, though he waited for the woman to move away with her men first.
Night fell. People closed their shops, the fishermen returned to land, and Callen paid for a room at the inn. It wasn't much, but this would be better than sleeping on the grass.
He was tired—very tired. Not physically, but mentally. He hadn't realized the toll these days' events had taken on him.
That's why he decided he'd go to sleep early. He dropped his bag of supplies to one side and threw himself onto the bed. At another time, it would have felt hard as a brick; right now, it was the closest thing to a cloud.
The prince yawned. His eyes closed, and within a few minutes, he was sleeping deeply.
Idiot. You shouldn't be so trusting.
Lin, the pirate woman from the afternoon, appeared in the room, climbing through the window. She landed on the floor silently, taking long strides toward Callen's bag.
She crouched beside it, where she had left a small drop of water marking the bag during their encounter. Then she began to search it.
Food, though little, an empty canteen, a change of clothes—a gala outfit?
The woman raised an eyebrow, slowly looking at Callen's sleeping figure.
What the hell would he want this for? she thought, sighing. Well, at least it'll fetch a good price.
The woman kept searching. She didn't expect to find the prince's money, since she suspected he had it on him, but perhaps she'd find something else of value.
She felt a small sting of pain when she pricked herself on something at the bottom of the bag. She smiled to herself and began to pull it out.
She grabbed the object with both hands and lifted it high, just as the light from the window illuminated the room—then she realized what she had in her hand.
A crown, she thought, her mouth slightly open and her eyes narrowed.
Her reaction didn't stay in that state for long. A few seconds later, her eyes opened much wider, as did her mouth.
A crown!? She was about to drop it from the surprise, though her sleight of hand was enough to save it this time.
Why the hell does this guy carry a crown in a bag!? she thought, trying to analyze the situation she'd gotten herself into. Only the royal family has a crown!
The woman turned to look at him fully, but when she did, she found herself face to face with a scimitar pointing at her neck—and a completely awake Callen.
"Coming to rob someone you met a few hours ago is quite bold."
"What can I say? I can't keep my hands still when I see something that attracts me," she said with a nervous smile, as if trying to downplay the matter.
Maybe this man is an experienced thief—skilled enough to steal a crown, she thought as they spoke. But that would be impossible. No one just walks into the royal palace like that.
"And I must say, your spirit attracts me quite a bit," the woman said in a flirtatious tone.
"I must say I'm not interested." He brought his scimitar a little closer to the woman's neck.
Tch, she thought. The other alternative I have left... is crazy. This guy can't be a prince. Right?
"It's a real shame. I'd prefer not to end up with my head separated from my neck."
"You should have thought better before trying to rob me."
I'll have to gamble.
"Isn't there some way we can resolve this, Mr. Nellac?" the woman said as Callen prepared to attack. "Or should I say, Your Highness."
Upon hearing that, the prince let himself be carried by instinct and attacked immediately. To his surprise, the woman dodged the attack quickly and ran toward the open window.
Bingo. It seems he was one after all.
"Conversing with you is funny. Let's continue this tomorrow, shall we?"
Callen lunged after her, launching a horizontal cut that the woman dodged by letting herself fall backward. The prince leaned out to see how the woman had generated a kind of bubble around her hands and feet, using them against the wall to slow her fall.
Upon reaching the ground, the bubbles disappeared. The woman shook the remaining water from her hands and looked up at Callen's window. She winked at him and ran off, disappearing into the darkness of the night.
The prince stayed at the window, watching the woman's shadow fade away, but more than anything, processing that brief exchange. The thought that repeated most in his head was: What the hell just happened?
He returned to the bed, sighing. He couldn't allow that woman to spread the rumor that he was a prince, but he was truly tired, so he didn't want to chase her. That said, just in case, he slept hugging the bag where he kept his things. The next day, he had to find that woman and, if possible, silence her—no matter the method.