Seraphina heard the subtext clearly. This was not genuine concern for her health; it was stalling, testing, and buying time for himself to think.
She was reluctant. She had waited until the rare moment Movira was absent from the Demon King’s Castle to slip away. The longer she lingered, the higher the chance of being discovered.
Yet Dekrian had lowered his stance considerably, his reasoning was sound, and her own proposal had been far too sudden. He deserved time too.
“…Very well. Thank you for your trouble, Your Grace.”
During this dinner, Dekrian gave Lina a seat at the table, then excused himself on some pretext. Seraphina allowed it.
The moment he left the dining hall, he hurried without pause to the indoor greenhouse and found his wife Finiel.
Hearing hurried footsteps, Finiel looked up. Seeing her usually composed husband so flustered, a faint smile curved her lips.
“What is it? What has our ever-calm Duke so rattled?”
She teased lightly while dismissing the maids around her.
Dekrian told her everything that had just happened.
Finiel set down her watering can aside, rose gracefully from the high stool, walked to her husband, and spoke words that seemed unrelated.
“His Majesty’s care for Her Highness is something even we, far away in the ancient castle, can feel.”
Her tone was calm, as though discussing the weather.
“Do you think His Majesty truly knows nothing of Her Highness’s… adventurous plan? Would she really be allowed to step alone into the ‘mud’?”
Dekrian fell silent for a moment, the tension in his nerves easing slightly.
“I understand.”
His wife’s words were brief, but they were enough to wake the dreamer.
“Go and prepare for Her Highness,” Finiel said, picking up the watering can again, her voice returning to its usual gentleness. “And… send a small, inconspicuous team of shadow guards for protection, just in case. That way, no matter who asks, we have an answer.”
A faint gleam passed through her eyes.
“My Duke, can you now return and finish dinner with Her Highness in peace?”
“Mmm… Your wisdom is my greatest strength.”
“Heh, why say such things? I am your wife, you are my husband. It’s that simple. Oh, and one more reminder… with Her Highness absent from the Demon King’s Castle, our daughter…”
…
Under the witness of the sinking sun, an utterly ordinary carriage slipped silently out of the castle’s side gate…
Seraphina’s heart still pounded. Movira discovering her absence was only a matter of time. What she feared was Movira actually finding her.
But… the Demon Realm was vast. Even for Movira, it would take two or three days, wouldn’t it?
In two or three days, she could accomplish a great deal.
For disguise, Seraphina had asked Dekrian to prepare two sets of special Bloodborn fang prosthetics. They could be removed when not needed and did not interfere with daily life.
What she did not know was that ever since leaving the Demon King’s Castle, a black shadow had followed the carriage without fail…
Lina sat opposite her, dressed in practical grey travelling clothes, her face lightly altered to hide the most obvious human traits.
“We should arrive near the outskirts of Asma around midnight,” Lina said softly, breaking the silence. In her hand was the simple but crucial map Dekrian had provided.
“Dekrian’s people will meet us at Rotten Pass—the last safe outpost before entering Asma.”
Seraphina let the curtain fall and gave a faint “mm.” The motion sickness prevented her from thinking too deeply.
“Lina.” She hesitated, then spoke, her voice a little airy. “If… I mean if… we encounter danger we cannot handle, don’t worry about me. Find a way to escape on your own.”
Lina froze, staring straight at Seraphina. “What kind of nonsense is that? If even a Princess Regent can’t escape, a mere human like me would fare far worse. Anyway, let’s not talk like that…”
She paused, a trace of self-mockery in her tone. “If something really happened to you, Movira would probably turn the entire Demon Realm upside down. The ‘future’ you want to see would cease to exist.”
“…It’s Princess Regent…” The corner of Seraphina’s mouth barely managed a tiny curve. Was the title noble? Yes. But it was also drenched in irony.
A Regent forced onto the throne, now reduced to sneaking around like a thief…
Night deepened. The carriage finally slowed. Outside the windows, only thick darkness remained, broken by the swaying glow of the magi-crystal lantern at the front.
An invisible pressure began to fill the air, as though countless eyes were watching them.
“Y-… Young misses, we’re almost at the pass,” the coachman’s low, wary voice came from ahead.
“Lina, from now on you are my older sister, Lys. I am your younger sister, Della.”
After giving the final instructions, Seraphina touched the small dagger hidden inside her clothes. The cold metal gave her a sliver of comfort.
The carriage finally stopped at a crude checkpoint built from massive beast bones and rusted metal. Several figures emerged from the shadows.
They wore mismatched leather armour, reeked of blood, and their eyes were wary and savage.
“Halt! Inspection!” a rasping voice barked.
The coachman exchanged the agreed-upon code phrases. Moments later, a scar-faced demon approached and quickly scanned the carriage interior.
Then he leaned close to the window and whispered, “The two ‘merchant’ ladies, please follow me. Everything has been arranged by His Grace.”
Seraphina and Lina exchanged a glance, took a deep breath, and followed Scar-face out of the carriage into an even darker stronghold behind the pass—apparently a converted natural cave.
The air was thick with the stench of cheap alcohol and choking gunpowder.
All manner of demons huddled inside: some snoring in corners, others cleaning weapons. Every gaze that turned their way was filled with scrutiny, greed, and malice.
Those complicated stares stabbed at Seraphina like blades.
Sweat gathered in her palms, yet she forced herself to remain outwardly calm.
And right as Seraphina stepped inside the stronghold, several bats flew in from the mouth of the cave. No one paid them any mind; such things were common here.
Scar-face led them to a relatively quiet partitioned area where a robed figure whose face could not be seen was already waiting.
“This is ‘Shadow.’ He will take you into the city and provide necessary protection,” Scar-face said curtly, then withdrew, leaving Seraphina, Lina, and the silent robed demon alone.
“Asma does not welcome strangers…”