He lifted his head and looked up at the sky. The forest path, lined with oaks and spruces, was lit only by the stars that spun silently in the night sky. The hooting of an owl and the chirping of starlings brushed past his ears.

Suddenly feeling the urge to relieve himself, he found a secluded spot near a spruce to attend to his needs. Then he pulled some tobacco leaves from his waistband and began to roll them. Then he heard it – a rustling sound coming from near a faintly outlined tree. Startled, he swallowed hard and drew his sword.

“Ahhh!”

Theo let out a scream as something suddenly jumped out. Expecting it to be a deer or a roe, he realised that the figure was much longer and thinner. Like a frightened child, he stumbled backwards, dropping his sword. The figure hesitated in front of him for a moment before coming closer.

“Are… are you all right?”

“Aaah!”

A soft, fragile voice came from the figure. Tense and frightened, Theo scrambled backwards, dragging himself to the ground. The figure stopped approaching and removed its hood.

“I… I’m human.”

Her voice was choked with emotion. Theo swallowed hard and regained his composure. He stood, picked up the sword he had dropped and replaced it in his belt. Almost instinctively, he raised his hand to scratch his head.

“Ah!”

His shoulder, still unhealed, creaked in protest. It was his injured right arm, the one the beautiful and kind apothecary had warned him not to move too much. He quickly lowered the arm he had tried to raise and turned his gaze to the woman. He examined her more closely now that her hood was down.

“I…”

Her features were familiar. Auburn hair with a coral tint, a waxy complexion, long eyelashes, freckles scattered across her nose and full lips. Theo stared at her for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Ah… aren’t you the apothecary?”

***

“A search party has been sent.”

Raoul knelt and bowed his head deeply. The other knights who followed him also fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads and gazes firmly to the ground. The Crown Prince’s eyes reflected the red glow of the torches, but the atmosphere remained cold and sombre.

Count Phelan, Lord of Motas, who had come to greet him, halted his steps. It wasn’t the first time he had greeted the Crown Prince. So he was familiar with the cold and commanding aura the prince exuded. He knew how his subordinates worshipped him and how his mere presence overwhelmed the room. He was as intimidating as he was captivating.

The count’s mind wandered to the soldiers crossing the moat. It was said that the Crown Prince’s men were marching along the banks of the Walburn River. In about an hour they would all arrive and fill the castle courtyard. The march itself was no problem. However…

“She’s not a fast walker, especially with her nursing daughter.”

Not the princess, but her daughter. A seemingly minor difference in phrasing, but it spoke volumes. If there had been no underlying problem, there would have been no need to avoid referring to her as a princess. The Count looked at the Crown Prince’s face. It was calm, devoid of any recognisable expression.

At first glance, he even appeared to be serene. To someone who did not know him, the almost fanatical obedience of the knights might have seemed absurd. But the count knew the Crown Prince. He knew what kind of man he was – he had learned enough to understand.

‘Could it be that the lieutenant’s head will roll today?’

The Count lowered his eyes and bit the inside of his lip.

“When did they leave?”

“An hour before the 1st Battalion arrived at Waldwyn Castle.”

“Which way did they go?”

“West, towards the hills of Pharamek.”

“……”

“We have dispatched a tracking team, Your Highness. Soon, very soon…”

The Crown Prince remained silent. Leaning back against the high seat, his gaze fell upon the lieutenants before him, heavy as lead. Not one of them dared to speak first.

Count Phelan lifted his eyes to look beyond the castle walls. Dense forests stretched along the upper reaches of the river. The man who had been staring at the flickering flame of the candlestick finally spoke.

“Find them before dawn.”

As the man watched the melted wax drip down, he pressed the edge of the dancing wax with his fingers. With forceful pressure, he crushed the candleholder, causing it to collapse. Raoul swallowed hard.

“I will await the report in my chamber.”

“Immediately!”

The Crown Prince, who had crushed the melted wax, spoke in a cold, distant tone. Raoul raised his head and looked at the man. The wax that had melted on his fingers left them reddened. The Crown Prince just stared at him, unmoving. He was an inscrutable man, deeply indifferent and unrelentingly distant. Raoul gritted his teeth and stifled a shiver.

***

Crackle, crackle.

The campfire crackled softly. Broken twigs and scattered leaves, far from proper firewood, burned in the flames.

Theo glanced at the woman cradling a child. She sat with her head down, gazing quietly into the fire. Feeling his eyes on her, she raised her eyes to meet his. Embarrassed, Theo quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Do you feel better now?”

He thought back to the woman who had stood before him earlier, her face streaked with tears. He didn’t know why she was crying, but the sight had been deeply moving. Even the faint moonlight casting its glow on her pale face seemed to be full of sorrow. His chest tightened with emotion. Though their paths were different, he couldn’t just ignore her.

She wasn’t a stranger – she was someone who had saved him once. But even if she hadn’t, she was a fragile woman with a nursing child. The mountain path was hard, a challenge even for able-bodied men. Although the forest seemed quiet, it was steep in many places and there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t encounter wild animals.

“Yes… I’m sorry about earlier. I must have frightened you quite a bit, didn’t I?”

“Oh no, not at all… I was a bit scared, but it was nothing really…”

Theo’s words trailed off and he let out a soft, nervous chuckle. The woman watched his smile quietly, their eyes meeting and holding. Heat rose to his face, colouring the bridge of his nose. Flustered, Theo cleared his throat and turned his attention to the child in her arms.

“But why are you here at this hour with your child? Is your home in a village beyond this path?”

When they first met in the forest, the woman had been crying behind a tree, her hood pulled low over her face. Her feet, battered and dirty from trekking along the rough mountain paths, showed how hard her journey had been. From her bonnet to her shoes, everything about her appearance was dishevelled, as if she had been limping along the steep paths for a long time.

Theo had been startled by her sudden presence, but his alarm quickly turned to urgency when the distant howl of a coyote broke the silence. Without hesitation, he led her away and searched for a safe place to camp for the night. Fortunately, Theo was well-versed in mountain terrain – his late father had been a hunter whose life revolved around hunting and camping.

When his mother, who had been frail since her youth, died of a fever shortly after giving birth to Theo, his father took to carrying the boy on his back and often left the village, spending much of their time camping in forests and mountains. Growing up under his father’s care, Theo became adept at navigating and surviving in the wilderness, far more so than other young men his age. After some searching, he managed to find their current campsite.

Although he wasn’t as skilled as his father, Theo could tell which areas of an unfamiliar forest were safe and which were dangerous. So it didn’t take him long to find this place. His plan was to continue down the path at dawn and take a ferry across the river.

“No, no, it’s not like that.”

“Then…”

Feeling it would be impolite to press further, Theo let his words fade. He handed her a blanket, some water and dried food as a substitute for dinner. But all he could do was watch as she sat in silence, tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn’t stopped crying, her face was streaked with tears.

“I’m sorry for causing so much trouble…”

“No, it’s really all right. You’ve helped me before, this is nothing. But is the baby OK? It’s colder up here in the mountains.”

The woman looked down at the baby in her arms. Wrapped snugly in the blanket Theo had given her, the child was fast asleep without a whimper. She shivered slightly and clutched the blanket closer to the baby. Seeing this, Theo took off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders, then folded his arms to keep himself warm.

The woman tried to give the cloak back, saying she was fine, but Theo shook his head firmly. Reluctantly, she accepted the cloak, whispering softly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Thank you. You’re probably still recovering, and yet, because of me…”

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling his heart flutter and race at the same time. To hide the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he pretended to scratch his cheek. Avoiding her gaze, he lowered his head and murmured quickly.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve fully recovered, thanks to your care. I felt much better after a good night’s rest. Isn’t that amazing?”

Theo spoke hastily. Even though she wasn’t technically a ‘Miss’, since she had a child, the woman in front of him looked so youthful and beautiful that the term felt natural. Besides, she didn’t seem to mind being called ‘Miss’. Deciding that it was appropriate, Theo decided to continue addressing her as such.

The woman looked at him closely, as if trying to determine if he had truly recovered. Her gaze, cautious and warm, reflected her role as apothecary. Theo rubbed at his reddened eyelids, trying to hide the nervous heat rising to his face.

“But more importantly… we haven’t even introduced ourselves.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

“My name is Theodor Dianton. You can just call me Theo.”