Once the decision was made, there was no more room for hesitation.
Pandora’s gaze sharpened instantly. While Ham and Lucien had their backs turned, nervously watching the guards, Pandora abruptly raised her left wrist. Without a moment’s pause, she used her nail to press hard into the edge of the not-yet-healed wound, tearing it open anew!
“My Lady!”
“Don’t waste words. Replenish yourself. Prepare for what’s next,” Pandora’s tone was firm as she extended her wrist. Her attitude left no room for argument. “I don’t want you making a mistake because you’re weak.”
“…As you command, My Lady.”
Elsa’s throat bobbed slightly. She stopped trying to suppress the longing in her heart.
She leaned down, like the most devout worshipper, her lips once again caressing Pandora’s wrist.
This time, she drank faster, more thirstily.
Pandora could clearly feel the weakness, the dizziness of blood loss. And yet, at the same time, she could feel Elsa’s presence growing stronger, more potent. The cold, sharp killing intent she kept hidden beneath her elegant exterior was bleeding into the air around them, a palpable aura of danger.
“That’s enough, My Lady.”
Pandora gently withdrew her arm, her breathing slightly ragged. The wound was hidden by her sleeve, but the fading vitality showed on her face. The moonlight made her seem impossibly pale, enough to make one’s heart ache.
Elsa lifted her face, delicately licking the last traces of scarlet from her lips. Her gaze was dazzlingly bright.
“Rest assured, My Lady. I will not waste this gift.”
Pandora fought off the dizziness and gave a calm nod. “Go.”
Elsa hesitated no longer.
She turned and silently approached Ham and Lucien, leaning in to whisper in their ears.
Both boys flinched, fear flashing in their eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by a resolve born of necessity. They had no other choice. The path forward offered only one direction.
The two of them nodded in unison, their muscles tensing.
Elsa straightened up, gave Pandora one last look, then melted back into the darkness of the woods, ready to begin her…
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“performance.”
………………
Under the cold moonlight, two guards stood before the armory.
“Damn, it’s freezing.”
The guard on the left, “Big Guy” Warren, couldn’t help but complain, shifting a foot that had gone stiff and sore from the weight of the heavy armor. Not long ago, he’d been a squire in training, barely wearing real armor. In a single night, the world had turned upside down.
Yesterday, he was being punished for peeking at the barmaid’s bath. Today, he was clad in the plate armor he’d once yearned for—the armor of a true knight, a knight of the “New King.”
Excitement? Sure, a little.
Mostly, it was a sense of loss, a strange emptiness. When the thing you’d always longed for was finally yours, its glory didn’t shine so bright. The heavy weight was all that felt real.
“Shut it, Warren,” the guard on the right, “Sly Fox” Cole, muttered. His voice was muffled by his helmet, tinged with a gloom that came from having lived through the catastrophe.
Warren’s father had passed away long ago, but Cole’s father had died just last night. When the man he’d both respected and feared became a hideous monster lunging for his throat… that was a memory etched into his soul.
“Let Lord Arthur hear you complaining, and you can kiss this armor goodbye!”
“Big Guy” shrank his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. It’s just… this tin can doesn’t feel as heroic as I imagined.”
“Heroic?” “Sly Fox” sneered, his gaze sweeping toward the lit window of the distant town hall. “This isn’t enough glory for you? You want to be the king yourself? Keep dreaming!”
“Big Guy” fell silent. No matter what he thought, those were words you couldn’t say out loud.
A moment later, the boredom got to him again. “Hey, Cole, you think… that Aurora, is she really crazy?”
“Aurora?” Cole’s gaze flickered. He didn’t answer right away.
“How dare she refuse to swear fealty to Lord Arthur! And she said… Miss Pandora is still alive? Ha!” “Big Guy’s” voice was laced with scorn. “What a joke! Douglas Manor? There’s probably not a mouse left alive in that place. Without a hero like Lord Arthur, who could have survived there? I think she just went crazy from fear.”
“Exactly.”
“Sly Fox” nodded in agreement. “Pandora Douglas, that pampered little lady… if she survived, I’ll eat my own boots! Aurora… hmph. She was just blinded by a little bit of kindness the young miss tossed her way. Utterly foolish. Only by following Lord Arthur is there a path to survival.”
As he spoke, “Sly Fox” felt a sudden chill on his neck, as if a night breeze had brushed past it…
He didn’t realize that in the shadows of the distant woods, a cold gaze had locked onto his neck the moment he spoke ill of Pandora.
The conversation continued, the topic shifting from one thing to another before long.
Rustle…
From the edge of the woods came the faint sound of footsteps.
The two tensed instantly, their longswords and light warhammers snapping up. Their gaze locked onto the direction of the sound.
The bushes at the edge of the woods trembled.
Two familiar figures walked out.
It was “Thumbs” Ham and “Gabby” Lucien.
They looked a bit disheveled, their expressions weary. Their clothes were caked in mud and torn by branches from a long journey.
And between them, they marched a young girl, her hands bound with coarse hemp rope.
The girl kept her head lowered. Messy hair covered most of her face, leaving only a pale chin and neck visible. Her bloodless lips were pressed tightly together, revealing the despair and unwillingness in her heart.
“Sly Fox” looked closer.
The girl wore the highest-quality handmaiden’s uniform. It was torn and dirty, but the exquisite tailoring and beautiful patterns could still be faintly discerned, which only made her current state all the more jarring.
“She’s… Elsa? The Head Handmaiden of Miss Pandora!?”
“Sly Fox’s” gaze was full of suspicion.
By the time he’d processed the thought, the two of them were already standing before them.
