Chapter 21: A Wistful Prayer and a Maiden’s Sigh

A string of carts rolled through a town on the outskirts of the Holy Principality of Belluga. They bore various goods that Forkroad & Co. intended to sell, along with four larger items that were definitely not intended for sale — Mia and her three co-conspirators were hidden in the back of one of the carts.

Three days had passed since they'd joined the caravan, and a stifling silence had descended upon the group. Mia stared wordlessly at the floor of the cart, her face a little pale. She was sitting with her knees held tight against her chest. The riding blouse and shorts she wore had been chosen for ease of movement, but that function was limited at the moment.

At times, she would let out a thin sigh, causing Tiona to glance worriedly in her direction.

Princess Mia... She must be so worried, Tiona thought as she considered Mia's perspective. Abel, her princely sweetheart, was currently stranded in dangerous territory. Thoughts of him probably filled her heart with grief. I need to do everything I can to protect her and bring her to Prince Abel's side.

Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the thin sword at her waist.

Please, Prince Abel. Be safe.

She closed her eyes and mouthed a silent prayer.

Keithwood, meanwhile, had a different take on the scene.

Well then, it looks like even Princess Mia isn't immune to nervousness.

They were headed for the Kingdom of Remno, which was certainly dangerous territory. Though public order was still broadly intact, the areas with active revolts posed an undeniable risk to their safety. People were furious at Remno royalty, and the vector of their rage could easily be redirected toward the rulers of foreign nations. If their identities were ever revealed, this mission might very well prove fatal. And Mia knew it, she had to. The risk was so obvious that it seemed inconceivable for someone known as the Great Sage of the Empire to have overlooked it. There was no doubt in his mind that she was cognizant of the danger and had overcome her fear to be here.

I have to give her credit. She's not just smart, but she knows to be judicious with her courage; she's brave when it counts.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully as he studied her, growing increasingly aware that some part of him wouldn't mind seeing a union between Mia and his master.

Finally, let's shift the perspective to the person in question and figure out what Mia was actually thinking through all this...

U-Ugh... I... I feel sick...

She was... just plain cartsick. And very badly cartsick at that. After all, she'd only ever ridden in carriages meant for use by the imperial family, which were works of exceptional craftsmanship that maximized the comfort of their passengers. Having gotten used to the ease of travel such luxurious vehicles afforded, the wagons of merchants proved awfully unpleasant. The stiff wood of the floor grated painfully on her delicate rear, and the unforgiving bumpiness of the road made short work of her vestibular system.

Every so often, she'd force out a few breaths in an attempt to quell the nausea, but she was slowly losing the war against her stomach as it sent wave after wave of acrid juices up her throat. To her credit, she was aware that it seemed rather rude to give her three friends the silent treatment after asking them to come on a journey like this with her. However, every time she attempted to make conversation, she'd be assaulted by a bout of queasiness that made her head spin.

I might just vomit if I open my mouth...

She couldn't say it out loud, either. Nauseated or not, she was still a princess, and she had an image to maintain. No princess with even a shred of pride would just flat out tell people she was going to throw up. So she kept her head down and endured, desperately fighting the urge to empty the contents of her stomach onto the wagon floor.

At no point did issues such as their true identities being exposed to the rebelling masses cross her mind. It had never even occurred to her that such a thing would be a problem. She was worried about Abel, of course, but her coping mechanism for that particular concern was... to avoid thinking about it.

It's okay. When I was captured, it took a while before they killed me. We'll make it in time.

Despite her rationalizing, however, she couldn't help but hope he was safe. For a brief moment, she looked up, aiming this wistful prayer of a star-crossed lover at the sky... Only for her to swallow it back down as another wave of nausea threatened to send more than just a prayer out of her mouth.

Can't think... I feel so sick...

She held her hands over her face, feeling like her limit was fast approaching.

"We're almost past the border. Keep it up, everyone. Just a little longer," said Sion, who'd gone to the driver's box to take a look around. He rejoined them in the wagon.

The first barrier to reaching Prince Abel was the border. According to information they'd obtained beforehand, the Kingdom of Remno was currently in a state of high security. Entering and exiting the kingdom was heavily restricted, with only a handful of merchant companies receiving exemptions.

"Not that it's surprising. You'd expect them to tighten border control at a time like this. Internal strife is exactly the kind of thing neighboring nations will try to take advantage of by sending in their own agents. They might offer assistance to either faction in exchange for future favors, or they might use the chaos as part of an attempted coup. Remno's military strength also makes them an especially attractive target, as no half-decent ruler would pass up an opportunity to weaken a powerful foreign army."

Sion's matter-of-fact explanation was met with nods from Keithwood and Tiona. Mia watched them, her gaze growing slightly distant.

Huh... I wonder if they were like this when the empire went through its revolution too?

"Still," Sion continued, "I have to admit that this is going more smoothly than I expected."

"Thanks to Miss Chloe's brilliant plan. And, of course, this route that our team of undercover agents plotted out for..."

Keithwood trailed off and tilted his head a little with a frown. Soon after, there was a scream from the driver's box.

"B-Bandits! They're coming for us!"

"Bandits?"

Sion and Keithwood traded narrow-eyed glances.

"That's strange. A caravan of this size shouldn't..."

The Forkroad caravan was fairly large, consisting of ten wagons. A group of this size would be accompanied by private mercenaries, which should have made it far too risky a target for bandits to gamble with.

"Public order might be in short supply right now, but still, there's something fishy about this."

The two of them simultaneously leapt to their feet.

"Princess Mia, come this way!"

A sudden tug on her arm sent her stumbling toward the front of the wagon.

"Bleugh—" Her hands shot to her mouth and she swallowed hard, just barely managing to avoid gastrological disaster. "Ugh! Wh-What was that for?!"

She was about to shout further outrage at the impertinent tugger of her arm, only for the words to catch in her throat when she looked up to find Sion, his lips tight and his eyes hard. He was staring past her. She followed his gaze and turned around.

"Who—?!"

She gasped as the wagon cover was flipped open and a lean-bodied man stepped inside. He was wrapped in black fabric from head to toe. Even his face was covered with a black cloth. He looked at the four of them and drew his sword. It looked a little shorter than the standard-issue ones most knights carried.

"A-A-A... A bandit?"

The blade's threatening gleam sent a shiver up her spine that made her voice tremble.

"My oh my, not one for manners, are you? Look, you're scaring the ladies," said Keithwood with a tilt of his chin.

The next instant, Keithwood was halfway across the wagon, sword in hand. His sudden lunge was accompanied by a sharp thrust. With skill and power that rivaled Sion, he aimed his sword directly at the man's dominant arm. There was a clang as metal met metal, and Keithwood's sword strayed from its path. He grimaced and hopped backward as his enemy's blade cleaved the air an inch away from his face, only to kick the floor as he landed, propelling himself forward for a second thrust. His offbeat assault continued, striking at his opponent with a syncopated rhythm that threw off the regular timing of bladed exchanges. The black-garbed man, however, was no slouch and deftly parried his attacks left and right. Their blades danced around each other in sharp arcs that cut straight through the canvas of the wagon, and the shredded fabric began fluttering wildly in the wind.

"Going toe to toe with me, huh... Careful, milord. This man's no mere bandit."

"Agreed. His movement is practiced," said Sion with a stern-faced nod. "Who are you? An assassin of some sort?"

"Well, I mean, if he was, he probably wouldn't just tell you his name, so — Whoa!"

The man's shortsword lashed out again as they traded quips. Keithwood caught the incoming blade and traded blows while backing up. His steps were smooth and deliberate, flowing from one to the next in a graceful sequence that seemed more dance than battle.

"Tsk tsk, interrupting people while they're talking... You assassins sure are a rude lot, aren't you?" he scoffed.

His provocation had little effect on the man, who continued to slowly edge toward them.

"Trying to close the distance, are we? Well, two can play at that game."

This time, Keithwood went on the offensive. Employing a style that eschewed wide swings in favor of thrusting strikes, he was unimpeded by the confined space of the wagon. Each attack, even if blocked, would flowsmoothly to the next, creating a perfect chain that — though unable to deal a fatal blow — was more than enough to keep the man busy. As he continued his barrage, he began to frown.

"Something's not right... This guy's no amateur. He's not getting anywhere and he knows it, so why isn't he leaving? What's he playing at— Wait, f—"

He snarled and spun toward the others.

"Milord! Watch out! He has backup!"

The swoosh of multiple swords began before his sentence had concluded. The damaged canvas was cut into tatters as two additional black-garbed men jumped onto the front of the wagon.

W-We're trapped!

Mia's eyes darted left and right for a way of escape, to no avail. They had Sion, but surely, even he couldn't handle two people at once. Suddenly, there was a very real danger to their lives, and she was gripped by a sensation she'd long forgotten — the primal fear of death. On the verge of tears, she whimpered and looked at the prince, whose expression could only be described as the polar opposite of hers.

"Wow, you people sure went to a lot of trouble just to trap a few kids on a wagon."

Calmly, he turned toward the newcomers, the motion slow but regal, and drew his weapon. He fixed the two flanking assailants with a glare, brandishing not the sword in his hand but the blades in his eyes. A palpable tension rippled from him, causing Mia's hair to stand on end. Her eyes widened in recognition, for she knew this sensation well. It was the deadly aura Sion gave off when he was looking at someone he had decided to kill.

In the previous timeline, I was the one on the receiving end of that terrible gaze.

She looked at his intrepid figure and felt reassured. After all, the frightening power that had once threatened her life was now being used to protect her from harm. The thought was enough to calm her nerves and even instill a bit of confidence.

Phew, it looks like we'll be fine! Thank the moons for Prince Sion! I bet he kills bandits like these all the time! This'll be a breeze for him!

As she grew increasingly optimistic, the gravity of the situation began to fade, and she even considered cheering him on the way one does a friend's sports match.

"All right. Which of you would like the honor of being the first ever victim of my blade?"

Let's go Si-on, let's— Wait what?! The first?!

All the confidence she'd built up melted away in an instant.

O-Okay, maybe we should watch this from a safer distance... Just in case...

She began crawling toward the edge of the wagon on her hands and knees. Just then, one of the wheels hit an uneven patch of ground, and the whole wagon bounced up into the air.

"...Eh?"

A strange sequence of sensations followed. First, there was a brief period of weightlessness. Then, she felt the slap of fabric against her back. Finally, there was a blunt impact to her side followed by the dizzying feeling of rolling.

The wagon was right in the middle of crossing a large river that ran along the border. She opened her eyes to find herself diving toward a carpet of water so vast it looked like an ocean. Powerful currents surged through it, throwing up large sprays as they crashed loudly past any obstacles in their path.

"Hyaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

She let out a rather undignified scream as she plunged into the watery depths.

"Damn it! Princess Mia! I'm coming!"

The last thing she heard before the final splash was the panicked voice of Sion...

And so, Tearmoon's princess and Sunkland's prince disappeared into the river.