Blayden intently observed Leni’s face as she struggled within his grasp, her body twisting, shoulders leaning back.
Fear blossomed around her tear-stained eyes, a clear indication that he had struck a raw nerve.
Yet, paradoxically, he felt as if he were the one ensnared, captivated by the very person he held.
He had initiated the trap, merely subduing her before she could mount a counterattack.
“Keep acting like baggage. Know that I don’t speak to baggage.”
With a sudden movement, as abruptly as he had seized her, Blayden released Leni’s waist and turned away.
The hand that typically gripped a sword without hesitation now trembled imperceptibly.
He couldn’t allow her to witness such a weakness.
As soon as her body was free, Leni expelled a ragged breath.
She realized there were countless ways to inflict torment upon another.
His sword wasn’t the sole threat she had to anticipate; at this rate, he might even resort to outright torture.
Leni glared at Blayden’s retreating back, convinced he was deliberately pushing her away, and began to mentally trace a map of the surrounding territory.
Wolf Lord, why this detour? she wondered.
The quickest route from Klavil to the Shadow Lands lay to the northeast.
Yet, ever since their journey began, Blayden had persistently moved southward.
Perhaps they were circumventing lingering dangers posed by enemy remnants, a plausible explanation.
However, to reach the Shadow Lands, they would inevitably have to traverse the border region with Berden regardless. It was an unavoidable path, short of traveling by sea.
If there was no strategic reason for this deviation, then only one conclusion remained: Blayden Rehart had no desire to arrive at the Shadow Lands swiftly.
Whatever his motivation, this deliberate delay was undoubtedly a matter of significance, demanding a report to Prince Kallian.
The Kinolff unit remained encamped in Narfen Forest for an additional day.
Lentz and Sharino announced their intentions to scout the rugged mountainous terrain, while Gabriel declared his aim to collect local herb samples. |
William and Blayden engaged in a hushed, private conversation before disappearing together.
Their stated reasons for leaving varied, but all had ridden out, likely venturing a considerable distance, irrespective of their true destinations.
Leni found herself left behind at the campsite with Gustav.
She dismissed Blayden’s pretense about needing someone to guard the supplies.
Who are you calling a fool? she thought, a flicker of resentment in her eyes.
It seemed evident that he was orchestrating something by leaving her here, and he had assigned a supervisor, knowing full well she would attempt to flee if left unsupervised.
As Leni’s conviction regarding Blayden’s intentional detour solidified, she altered her demeanor toward the other squad members.
She recognized the necessity of building rapport and gathering information about them.
Kallian had disdainfully dismissed the Kinolff unit as “insects.”
If she could supplement her report on Blayden’s movements with details about the squad members, it might significantly aid in securing her father’s release.
With Gustav as her sole companion at the campsite, Leni naturally initiated a conversation with him.
“What should I do?”
Her primary objective was to glean insights into the Kinolff unit, but the unexpected idleness felt unsettlingly awkward.
After tending to Gustav’s horse, there was little else to occupy her time.
Undertaking any task unbidden might even invite a scolding.
Yet, simply leaning against a tree trunk and idly plucking at blades of grass was so mind-numbingly boring that it made her restless.
When she attempted to think, her mind invariably fixated on her father and her recently shorn hair, plunging her into a state of despondency.
Physical activity was usually her preferred method of clearing her thoughts, but Gustav offered no such outlet.
“Perhaps the captain’s intention is for you to do nothing?”
His remark hung in the air, a tacit confirmation of her perceived status.
You are baggage.
You just need to stay where you’re put.
Did Gustav share that assessment?
Leni cast a sullen gaze at the sky.
It was another clear day, a fortunate circumstance for camping, she supposed.
Is God saving the worst for later?
Silly, fleeting thoughts drifted through her mind.
She watched the clouds, attempting to discern familiar shapes within their ephemeral forms.
But soon, even this became tedious, and she leaned against the tree, closing her eyes.
She must have been more tired than she realized, for drowsiness quickly enveloped her.
Leni, who had drifted into a light sleep, awoke when a gentle breeze brushed across her face.
As she smoothed her tangled hair and adjusted her headband, she noticed a scattering of fallen leaves at her feet.
She began to collect the oily, oval-shaped green leaves, arranging them into various patterns on the damp earth.
She created and dismantled rudimentary suns, moons, and stars.
This simple, childish game surprisingly helped her to focus and allowed time to pass more swiftly.
Driven by an inexplicable urge, Leni gathered more leaves and small twigs from the surrounding area and began to painstakingly write on the ground. Solenia Radelyon.
My precious name.
Whatever the world calls me, whatever hardships the future holds, I am me.
As she formed the letters, composing herself through the act, a faint smile touched her lips, quickly followed by a welling of tears in her eyes.
A hot lump formed in her throat, and her chest swelled with emotion.
Solenia Radelyon.
Leni absorbed the completed name with her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath, engraving it into her heart, and then whispered it aloud.
I call my name.
I remember my people.
I endure this hardship with their memories.
“Solenia Rade…”
Just as her lips and tongue began to form the sweet syllables of her name, Gustav approached and settled down beside her with a soft thump.
Leni instantly snapped her mouth shut and hastily scattered the leaves at her feet.
She felt an inexplicable certainty that Gustav would mock her simple, solitary play.
“What are you doing, rookie?” he inquired.
I’m not a rookie. I’m not your comrade, Leni silently retorted, inwardly denying his assertion.
She picked up a round, egg-shaped leaf.
From her waist, she pulled out a small cloth pouch, untied its drawstring, and carefully placed the leaf inside.
“Just, I saw some pretty leaves,” she offered, her voice casual.
As she was tightening the drawstring of the cloth pouch, Gustav abruptly posed a question.
“Are you from Ruhachen?”
“Excuse me?”
Leni turned her head to look at Gustav, surprised.
“Why do you think I’m from Ruhachen?”
“That,” Gustav replied, pointing with his chin to the pouch she held in her hand.
“It has a crescent moon embroidered on it.”
“And?”
Leni prompted, curious.
“The crescent moon is the symbol of Ruhachen. Sharino has something similar.”
“Really?”
Leni murmured, absorbing this new piece of information.
So Sharino is from Ruhachen.
Ruhachen was one of the smaller kingdoms situated between Kiavek and Berden, characterized by its rugged northern mountainous terrain.
It was a kingdom known for its rich deposits of rare minerals and abundant timber resources, though it possessed very little fertile land suitable for agriculture.
The people of Ruhachen were reputed to be skilled mountain climbers and highly resistant to cold temperatures.
Sharino, indeed, seemed to fit this description perfectly.
“Yeah,” Gustav confirmed.
“Ruhachen people worship the moon. Sharino also carries a pouch embroidered with a moon, like an amulet. Says the Moon Goddess protects her.”
“I see,” Leni replied.
“But I bought this pouch at the market last year because it was pretty. It has nothing to do with Ruhachen.”
“Really?”
Gustav questioned, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yes,” Leni affirmed, nodding.
Then, shifting the conversation to something more pertinent than the pouch, she asked Gustav,
“Then where are the rest of the people from?”
Blayden, she knew, was royalty from Kiavek, and now she knew Sharino hailed from Ruhachen. Gustav himself had mentioned last night that he was a noble from Treya.
That left Sir Lentz, Master William, and Gabriel.
“Sir Krobhe is Ekilium,” Gustav began to list.
“He’s the second son of a ducal family. His father was a close aide to King Tigrinus. William is Kiavekin. He used to run the largest blacksmith shop in Klavil, a renowned sword maker. Gabriel is Eblanin. His father was a painter, I hear. He built a workshop with royal patronage and had many disciples.”
They all possessed impressive backgrounds, Leni noted.
Either remarkable personal abilities or the considerable prestige of their families.
So why, then, had Prince Kallian dismissed them so contemptuously as ‘insects’?
Gustav picked up a twig and swiftly began to draw a map on the ground.
“I’m from Treya. I told you yesterday, right?”
“Yes,” Leni confirmed.
Treya’s territory, stretched long from north to south, resembled a squirming larva on Gustav’s impromptu map.
The twig landed with a light tap on its southeastern tip.
“Here. This is my hometown. A small village by the sea.”
From Ekilium in the north to the smaller kingdoms in what could be considered the continent’s center, they all originated from vastly different places.
“Only no one from Berden,” Leni observed.
“That’s right,” Gustav agreed.
“That’s why I wondered if you were from Berden. They say there are no prisoners, but that’s just talk, and it’s war. The victors always quietly take spoils and slaves.”
The twig in Gustav’s pale, slender hand then sketched the outline of Berden.
The completed map of the Ratznia continent, remarkably, took the shape of a large heart.
“They say the artisans and women captured after the last battle went to Kiavek. Those who were useful or beautiful.”
Leni let out a self-deprecating sigh.
“Since I’m neither useful nor beautiful, I guess I can’t even be a prisoner.”
The twig hovered in the air for a moment, then poked the dirt ground again, landing squarely in the middle of the Ratznia continent, piercing through the border regions of the small kingdoms.
“Leni, do you think you’re not beautiful?” Gustav’s tone was so excessively serious that Leni couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
“It’s okay if you’re trying to comfort me,” she said, still smiling.
Even if I’m not beautiful, I love myself enough.
I don’t need anyone’s pity or comfort.
I politely decline sweet empty words.
Gustav watched her smiling brightly with a curious interest, then drew a large circle on the dirt ground.
“Well, if you believe that, keep thinking that way. That feeling is probably part of yourself.”
It was a remark whose intention was hard to discern, neither outright comfort nor a clear reprimand.
Still, Leni realized it had been a long time since she had laughed like this.
The gloom that had weighed heavily on her heart seemed to lift, if only a little.
Leni exhaled deeply, leaning back against the tree. Listening to the birds chirping on a nearby branch, she asked nonchalantly, “By the way, is this Narfen Forest an important area in the battle?”
Gustav made a thoughtful “Hmm” sound and shook his head.
“Wrong question.”
“Excuse me?”
Leni replied, surprised by his response.
“Leni, do you know why we’re going to the Shadow Lands?”
No, I don’t, she thought to herself.
“Are you curious why we’re lingering in this forest?”
Leni flinched, feeling her true thoughts laid bare, but she forced herself to maintain a calm expression.