Zara began to open her eyes as sunlight streamed through the window, hitting her face directly. Her body felt stiff, and some of her joints ached.
Complaining, she sat up with difficulty. The woman had already risen as well, sitting on the edge of the bed, bandaging the few wounds she'd received from Callen.
She sensed Zara and turned around—dark skin, short hair, and a large scar over her left eye. After looking at her for a few seconds, she returned to bandaging her wounds.
"Aren't you worried about me seeing your face?"
"Of course not. You're coming with me. You would have seen it sooner or later."
Zara looked at the woman's neck. She bore a strange tattoo—it appeared to be a waning moon. Before she could see much more, the woman put all her clothes back on.
"And this?"
The woman noticed that on her right arm, a sort of metal device was attached, glowing with intermittent blue light.
"It must be my sister's doing."
She tried to remove it, but it was quite stuck to her skin—so much so that pulling it made her think she'd tear it off. The thought of using her sword crossed her mind, but she didn't want to end up seriously injured.
"It's not going to explode, is it?"
"Olivia isn't that sadistic... or so I hope," said Zara with doubt, making the woman's hair stand on end.
Though worried, she had no time to waste on this. The kidnapper stood up, covering the device with a bandage, and prepared to leave.
"Get up. We have a long journey ahead. We must leave the capital today."
"Wait a second. I want to ask you something."
The woman stopped to look at Zara.
"What do I call you?"
She blinked a couple of times, clearly confused by the question.
"Yes, you know. Calling you 'kidnapper' is too long, and 'woman' sounds like I'm ordering you around."
Understanding the princess, she sighed.
"You can call me 'Shadow.'"
"Aren't you a little old for that kind of nickname?"
"Shut up!" Though her face wasn't visible, Zara knew she was embarrassed. "Before we leave, you have to put these on."
Shadow freed Zara, letting the ropes fall at her feet, then stood up to examine the clothes the woman had given her.
"Aren't you afraid I might escape?"
"Go ahead, try it."
Zara tried to run toward the door, but she didn't get far—she tripped over the ropes at her feet and ended up falling flat on her face, making Shadow laugh.
"Don't laugh!" said the princess, wiping away a few tears.
Shadow threw the clothes at her again.
"Come on, hurry up and change."
"But... they look dirty. Besides, you're still here."
"You want privacy?" She crossed her arms and turned toward the wall. "That's all you're getting."
"That doesn't solve the dirt issue..."
The woman lowered one hand to rest on the hilt of her sword.
"If you want, I can help you decide faster."
"Suddenly it doesn't look so dirty," she said with a sigh.
Obedient to Shadow's orders, Zara took off her dress and put on the clothes. To the princess's surprise, they were quite comfortable—though rather worn and covered in mud everywhere.
Then Shadow approached, lifting the rope.
"Can't I go without the rope?"
"No." The woman lunged at the princess before she could do or say anything more and bound her again.
They both went down to the ground floor of the tavern. Though the innkeeper looked at Shadow suspiciously, she slid some coins his way, and he stopped. They both ate a little in silence and then departed.
Upon leaving, the light blinded Zara for a second, but once she grew accustomed, she couldn't hide her excitement.
Sandstone and wood houses rose up to three stories high, some adorned with flowers of all colors and others with people on the balconies. From some, the empire's flag waved—a blue crescent moon with two stars, surrounded by white.
The streets were packed with people of all types and sizes in a wide variety of clothing. Some accompanied by animals like dogs or cats, others more extravagant. There were many merchant stalls, selling everything from food to ornaments and even weapons.
The princess couldn't stop looking everywhere. Her nose flooded with unfamiliar smells, and she was indirectly drawn to the merchants by their calls. She marveled at the smallest things, like a little child.
"Shadow, Shadow, let's stop to eat something here!" she said at a food stall.
"No."
"Shadow, look at that! They're doing tricks!" she said, pointing as best she could at a duo performing acrobatics.
"No."
A group of soldiers passed by both of them, but they simply continued on their way, which puzzled Zara.
"You know, Shadow, I was thinking—why does it seem like everyone is ignoring us?"
The princess looked all around. It was obvious the citizens noticed them, but they simply went about their lives, as if seeing someone leading another person in ropes was perfectly normal.
"They're not ignoring us. They're just used to it."
"Used to it?"
Her father had often told her that the outside world wasn't as beautiful as she believed. She was beginning to understand why.
"Come here, everyone! See these new products!"
A man shouted to a crowd from a platform, hawking like the other merchants, but Zara felt something strange—something wasn't right.
"You shouldn't look, Princess."
Driven by curiosity, the princess ignored Shadow—and was horrified by the "products" the man was selling. People, from children to the elderly, all in horrible conditions. Looking at her own clothes, she realized they were very similar to theirs.
There was a girl—short black hair and eyes of the same color. She couldn't have been older than Zara, yet there she was. On her knees, hands chained, gaze lowered without daring to lift it. The princess thought they made eye contact for a moment, and she could see the emptiness reflected in them.
It was sickening. She wanted to go and stop everything—but what would she do? No one would believe her. A slave passing herself off as a princess? The disrespect would be so great that she suspected they'd have her executed. She was disgusted, but she held herself back.
"What are they doing? That's slavery, isn't it?" Zara turned her gaze back to Shadow, searching for some kind of answer.
Shadow didn't respond. Her entire demeanor had changed—she looked much more serious and even angry. Zara assumed that was a yes and said nothing more on the subject.
Even so, the princess didn't know what to think. Though she had read about slavery in her lessons, she never expected to find it so close to her home, much less so normalized. Imagining her father giving his approval to something like this was unthinkable.
"Where are you from?" asked the princess, somewhat frightened. Trying to think about something else.
"Tarzovia." The woman's answer left her frozen. Tarzovia was the empire's ultimate enemy, and it had never crossed her mind to think of something so obvious.
"Shadow... are you going to sell me as a slave?" Her tone was full of concern, even threatening to break depending on the woman's answer.
The woman glanced at Zara sideways.
"No. I won't," she replied. She seemed sincere.
The princess sighed. She chose to believe the woman's words—perhaps as a false hope.
The princess noticed a slight movement in a nearby alley, but she ignored it, thinking it might be some animal like a rat.
"So, Shadow, you..."
Before she could continue speaking, a sword cut the rope. At first, she thought it might be one of her brothers, but upon seeing the unknown person, she realized it wasn't.
"Girl!" Though Shadow tried to act quickly, the man grabbed Zara and ran with her into the alley.
Shadow pursued instantly. As they ran, the man dropped boxes and barrels to try to slow the woman's advance—in vain, as Shadow dodged them without any difficulty.
Then, reaching a dead-end alley, the pursuit stopped. The man joined two others who seemed to be waiting for him.
Only the one who'd taken Zara had a weapon—the short sword he'd used to cut the rope. The other two used only their fists.
"Hey, pretty one, we don't have to get aggressive," said one of the men—the one with the sword, who had a scar across his face.
Shadow drew her sword, ready for combat, but stopped when she saw the man bring his blade close to Zara's neck.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she added slowly.
"It's a woman?" asked another of the thugs.
"Of course she is. It's hard to hide those curves," he finished, laughing heartily.
Shadow didn't take her eyes off the one holding the princess. He signaled with his eyes for her to drop her weapon, and Shadow complied, letting her sword fall to the ground.
"That's it. If you cooperate, everything will be easier."
"Who are you people?" she asked.
"Does it matter, woman? The only thing that matters is that you've got quite a specimen for us."
"How much do you think they're worth?" Both girls broke out in a cold sweat upon hearing one of the men.
"You know, that noble said she'd pay us a lot of gold for the white-haired girl," said one of the three.
Shadow clenched her fists tightly. She could feel her blood burning, and her vision clouded slightly as she watched these men talk any longer. The woman had held herself back from acting. They were careless—she looked for openings, but she didn't know how much longer she could stay calm.
But it was looking at Zara that made her decide. It only took an instant to see the terror on the girl's face, and the woman couldn't help but put herself in her place.
"Well, we'll be on our—" She didn't let him finish the sentence. Shadow lunged at the man, kicking his face hard—hard enough to make him stagger backward and release Zara.
"You bastard bitch!" Another of the men tried to attack her. Shadow blocked his strike, grabbed his arm, and threw him onto his back on the ground, leaving him immobile.
She spun to the first one and struck him repeatedly in the chest and abdomen. The man fell to his knees in pain.
The third man picked up Shadow's sword and began swinging it wildly at her. The desperation on his face was visible—the confidence he'd had just seconds ago had vanished completely.
"I suppose you were expecting an easy job—one girl and one woman against three men." Shadow picked up the short sword from the ground.
She attacked, disarmed the man with the first cut, kicked his knee to destabilize him so he fell to the ground, and then lunged to stab him in the neck.
"Shadow!" Inches away, the woman stopped at Zara's scream.
"Don't do it. They don't deserve it." Though she still looked scared, Zara was more determined.
The woman nodded slowly. She wondered when the roles between them had switched and she was no longer giving the orders, but putting that aside, she hurried to Zara.
She began checking her thoroughly, ignoring her complaints, and then sighed.
"At least you're still in one piece. Let's get out of here." She hoisted Zara onto her back and, leaping between the walls, managed to escape the alley, leaving the men dazed from the beating.
The men struggled to their feet, cursing the woman for having left them in that state, unaware that two other figures were approaching them, completely hooded.
"Are you sure she passed through here?" said the man.
"Yes, I am. I detect her trail leading that way," the woman said, pointing to the wall at the end of the alley.
"That's a wall."
"They're on the other side, idiot."
The men didn't understand the situation, but they assumed they were acquaintances of Shadow's. Though the beating had calmed them down somewhat, they preferred not to get into trouble.
The man crouched down and picked up a strand of white hair. He lifted it to examine it better and sighed.
"You there," he began to say, startling the thugs. "Did you see a white-haired girl pass through here?"
They all nodded and pointed at the wall.
"I see. You're quite battered. Did you happen to fight with her?"
One of the men swallowed hard, summoning courage from the depths of his being, and approached the hooded figure.
"And what if we did?"
A movement. A cut. The upper half of the man fell backward while the lower half fell forward. Now the hooded figure held a scimitar in his hand.
"Ugh, that wasn't necessary," Olivia reproached him.
But Callen didn't seem to hear her.
"No one will miss them anyway. Besides, I will never forgive those who threaten my sister."
Burning with rage, Callen charged at them. Their screams of agony were silenced in an instant—now their bodies painted the alley's flagstones red.
Callen flicked his weapons, splattering blood on the walls, and began walking in the direction Olivia indicated, while she followed with a worried expression.