All preparations were completed in just a short span of three days.

There were as many as eight wagons loaded with supplies, and the military force to escort Princess Ophelia had also been mobilized, merely awaiting departure. 

The only one unprepared was Evelyn.

“So, you’ll be leaving soon.”

Glenna, watching Evelyn being dressed with the help of the maids, spoke in an excited tone. Though no one could know what situations or dangers lay ahead, her voice held no trace of worry or pity.

“Relieved to finally cast off all that burdensome baggage, are you, Mother?”

Evelyn confirmed the smile reflected in the mirror from Glenna and hardened her expression.

“How could that be? My heart aches, too, knowing my beloved daughter is crossing over to Bait. But what can we do? It’s all for the good of the kingdom.”

The way she spewed out those lies without batting an eye was thoroughly revolting. There were times Evelyn thought it would be better to escape the capital than to live in constant fear, not knowing when she might die.

But that thought could never become reality. It was because of the guards stationed outside the maid’s quarters, which were now essentially Evelyn’s. Evelyn suspected it was Glenna who had assigned them.

“Still, all dressed up like this, you look quite decent.”

Glenna crossed her arms and gave Evelyn a once-over. Seeing no need to reply, Evelyn simply turned her gaze away and let the maids continue attending to her.

The reflection in the mirror was, as Glenna had said, surprisingly presentable. Several strands of platinum blonde, like those of Princess Ophelia, were braided decoratively, and the light eye makeup accentuated her teal-colored eyes.

The extravagant dress, which she had thought she’d never wear or suit, fit her far better than expected.

Everything surrounding Evelyn was styled to Princess Ophelia’s preferences. Had someone familiar with the princess seen Evelyn from a distance, they might have mistaken her for the real princess.

Even the emperor of Bait, whom Evelyn had never met, would not be able to immediately discern that she wasn’t Ophelia just from her appearance.

But if he looked closely over time, he would surely realize it. That Evelyn was a fake Princess Ophelia. For someone who had lived her whole life as a maid, mimicking the speech and behavior of Princess Ophelia was near impossible.

And then Evelyn would surely lose her life on the spot.

As her thoughts reached that point, Evelyn let out a low sigh. An unfamiliar fear was tightening its grip around her.

“Well then, you’re ready, let’s go.”

As the final touches were completed, the maids stepped back from Evelyn. Without even sparing them a glance, Evelyn turned around, noting how the maids had already started tidying up.

When Glenna approached the door, the maids opened it for her respectfully. Evelyn began walking slowly behind her.

The only slight comfort was that Evelyn was well-versed in royal palace etiquette. Outside the palace gates, rows of soldiers stood to escort Princess Ophelia. Yet none of them paid respects to the fake princess Evelyn.

“Be careful on the long journey. Hopefully, we won’t have to meet again.”

Glenna saw Evelyn off with words that made it impossible to tell whether they were born of concern or not. It was a departure with no regret and a tinge of sorrow.

The moment Evelyn climbed into the carriage, the procession began. Inside the swaying carriage, Evelyn reflected on her life growing up in the capital. It had been a life with no joy.

Her mother, Glenna, had always been cold to her, and life in the palace had been nothing but grueling. There was no one she could rely on, and no one had ever acknowledged her.

Her days were as rough as the thick calluses that had formed on her hands. Still, Evelyn had never imagined she would be cast into danger like this.

***

It took a full week of travel by carriage before the fake Princess Ophelia crossed the border. Fortunately, the roads up to the border had been paved, so there hadn’t been much discomfort. But as soon as they crossed the border, the roads turned unpaved.

As time passed, Evelyn began to look increasingly pale. Born and raised entirely within the capital, she had no tolerance for long carriage journeys. The constant rattling and shaking made her feel nauseous.

Then it happened.

Just as she opened the window to calm her unsettled stomach, a flash of light caught her eye. Evelyn swept a hand down her face and squinted as she peered out.

The glint had come from sunlight reflecting off a blade.

“Ambush!”

Someone outside the carriage shouted, and cries erupted all around. The clash of weapons rang out, piercing the air.

Ping!

In that moment, an arrow flew in through the open window.

The arrow grazed Evelyn’s cheek, struck the carriage door, and quivered as it struggled to come to a stop.

Evelyn, unable to grasp the situation, blankly turned to look at the arrow. Only after the stinging pain began on her right cheek where the arrow had brushed past did she realize what kind of situation she was in.

It was truly an ambush.

Evelyn hurriedly shut the window and locked it. At the very least, with the window closed, the chances of another arrow flying in and threatening her would be reduced. Before she could even organize the thoughts whiting out in her head, her heart pounded violently in her chest.

Her hands trembled finely from shock and fear.

Could it be bandits? Evelyn was well aware that, due to the instability caused by war, bandit groups were rampant these days. Still, she had never imagined an ambush would come so suddenly.

In any case, Evelyn crouched inside the carriage, hiding and holding her breath. Even if she was only a fake Princess Ophelia, the ones escorting this carriage were royal soldiers.

As long as they were guarding her, she should be safe inside the carriage. Fake though she may be, she was, in name, Princess Ophelia.

…But would bandits really attack royal soldiers? That thought came to Evelyn belatedly, and she clamped her hand over her mouth.

She had suddenly remembered that the attackers’ faces had looked familiar. But how could someone like her, who had spent her entire life in the capital, recognize the faces of bandits from beyond the border?

She had been too naïve. The inside of the carriage was not safe at all. Because she was a fake princess. If the Emperor of Bait discovered her true identity, her homeland Hesta would undoubtedly be in danger.

Then—wouldn’t Hesta want to prevent that from happening in the first place?

Evelyn screamed silently. A dreadful premonition crept slowly up her spine. She tried to scream in her tangled mind that it couldn’t be true, that it was absurd, but every conclusion her thoughts arrived at painted the same horrific future.

Her rapidly beating pulse thudded loudly in her ears.

If she stayed here, she would be killed. Evelyn carefully opened the carriage door with the arrow still embedded in it and looked outside.

Outside the carriage was pure chaos. Sharp blades slashed through human flesh, and blood sprayed into the air along their arcs. Those who fell did not rise again, and the survivors turned their eyes, searching for their next victim.

It was a horrifying scene like nothing she had ever witnessed before.

For a moment, she thought it might be better to stay hidden in the carriage. But the image of herself dying right there in the carriage flashed vividly in her mind, and she shook her head hard.

She was terrified. Whether she died because the Emperor of Bait discovered she was a fake, died hiding in the carriage, or died while trying to escape, the end would be the same. Not one of those options was favorable to Evelyn.

If she ran away? She would either be hunted by Hesta’s soldiers, killed miserably by bandits, or captured alive by someone from Bait and torn apart. What else could there possibly be?

Tears trickled from her eyes in the face of such a grim future. In the end, she would not escape death. But she didn’t want to sit here and wait for it.

Without another thought, Evelyn opened the door and stepped outside. Realizing she couldn’t run in heels, she stepped barefoot out of the carriage and began to run in a direction where there were no people.

“The fake princess is running away!” 

One of the attackers, draped in rags, shouted.

That cry snapped Evelyn out of her regrets—regrets that, if these were real bandits, she had just walked into her death. They knew this procession was Princess Ophelia’s entourage. And they knew the person inside the carriage wasn’t Ophelia, but Evelyn.

That fact revealed only one thing. They weren’t bandits. They were soldiers from Hesta.