Initially Davina hesitated to take any action, wondering whether it was the right decision to expose themselves for the sake of strangers, but when she looked to her side and saw Neera's face, she knew she had to move.
The amount of pain and anguish reflected in her eyes, probably seeing herself in the same position years ago, was enough to push Davina's legs forward.
Now they were busy running through the forest in an effort to hasten their pace. They had been doing this every few hours ever since they had left that family behind after Neera suggested it. Even if the children were oblivious, the mother most certainly heard Davina's velvety accent when she spoke, paired with the peek of her skin beneath the cloak when she fought, it would be enough for her to be recognized as a foreigner.
They had heard of a search party going after them along with some wanted posters hung on the cities closest to Singre when they began their travels. They left the scope of the search behind as they strayed further away from the expected path towards the Ronna territory, taking alternative routes and avoiding main roads and cities on their way to Vinoa.
This interaction with the robbers would most likely alert the nearby military outposts, redirecting the search towards them. After all, it was not everyday one saw a wandering Ronna and a small child fighting while covered in cloaks.
Thus, they sped as much as they could to try and reach Vinoa and contact Ron before any missive about their appearance arrived and the city tightened it's security. The run was brutal for both of them, specially Neera, who had to frequently call out to Davina so she would slow down in order to avoid getting left behind.
After resuming a normal pace, the girl finally could catch her breath. Small puffs of white air left her lips, glowing partially when the rays of the setting sun caught them through the trees.
"Are you okay?"
Davina's voice made her straighten her slouched posture.
"Yes."
She looked back at the road they had been following, only to frown when she saw another family caravan passing through. This time it was way bigger than the previous one, with strong horses pulling carts and armed guards following on both sides.
'Probably a merchant's family'.
Not only the poor people were interested in reaching Vinoa, many wealthy families that lacked a noble status did not escape the clutches of war, and although they did not face the hunger spreading through the kingdom as harshly, they still missed loved ones who were fighting at the front or laid buried beneath the soil.
A strange thought passed through the girl's mind.
Should she be happy or sad to not have anyone to long for?
----
Ron sat in an outside table at a small pub facing the port, waiting as he had done for the last two days while sipping on the ale a chirpy waitress had brought over.
Every day he had been sitting there, watching the ships dock and leave with the tide, bringing objects and people from far away places. He had been initially surprised at the different kinds of faces he had seen on the streets of Vinoa. Some were tall and dark skinned, while others had pale skin and slanted eyes, speaking in rich languages he had never heard before.
He sighed in contentment while smelling the ocean breeze. These felt like vacations after his tumultuous departure from the Evernon County.
Four days prior he had been woken from his sleep by the door of his room bursting open, earning a shriek from his wife at his side.
"Mr. Bacard! Mr. Bacard! Wake up! It's an emergency!"
"What is it at this hour?!"
The sun hadn't even peeked through the windows yet and there was his attendee, running around and yelling in his pajamas while his wife did her best to retain her modesty with the sheets of the bed.
"I'm sorry, Mr.Bacard, but the Count has been badly injured!"
"What?!"
The news about the assassination attempt on the Count flew through the main house faster than Ron could reach his master's bedroom with his lame leg. Inside, he found the count lying in bed while doctors rushed around to stop the bleeding on his stomach.
The rest was a blur, and before he knew it, the sun was high in the sky and he sat on a chair at the Count's bedside while a nurse gave him water with a silver spoon.
After his throat was moist enough for him to speak, the Count addressed him.
"Ro -cough- Ron."
"Yes, my Lord."
"This was those bastards' doing, right?"
"We don't know for certain, my Lord."
"But they're -cough- most likely behind this. Aren't they?"
"Yes."
A heavy silence ensued, barely interrupted by the Count's labored breathing.
"They tried to kill me because of that naval business. That one with that Laurier investor."
Ron nodded in agreement. The letter he had received flashed in his mind, making his palms sweat.
'Your master will die before the end of next year.'
The phrase haunted him like a weight on his chest. He had tried to direct the guards of the city towards the suspicious people that had entered the County he had discovered a month ago, but it was no use since he couldn't give any direct evidence and risk the possibility of the Count believing he could be involved.
He knew his master very well. He had always felt trapped behind his father's shadow, trying his best to earn his validation over his siblings. After the former count had fallen ill, he finally found the chance to prove himself, cementing his position as the heir and subsequently rising to the main chair as the head of the fief. The constant infighting with his brothers and his sisters' spouses made him paranoid and extremely wary of those around him.
His brothers had truly tried to claim his head countless of times, resulting in their banishment from the territory. But as the months passed, the Count seemed to look for people to blame of treason anywhere he could, condemning innocents for the most absurd of reasons. He had once beheaded a maid for using the wrong tea, believing the different flavor ought to be produced by poison. Ron couldn't even begin to imagine what would become of him and his family if the Count ever learned he was aware of the existence of the intruders prior to the attack.
"You have to go on your own then."
"P-pardon?"
The Count threw his assistant a glare. He was in no mood to tolerate incompetence. Had he really been that shaken by this incident?
'Maybe he is truly worried about me.'
The thought somewhat soothed the severe crease in his brows.
"You have to go to Vinoa on your own. I will not be able to go."
"Do you still wish to proceed with the deal after all this, my Lord?"
The Count sighed, a cough interrupting his breathing midway while a sharp pang of pain shredded his gut. The nurse rushed back to his side, but he harshly pushed her away. He waited before his breaths regained their evenness before continuing.
"Of course. At this point we don't have much of a choice. The severe restrictions the other houses are imposing on us after the assembly have reduced or exports in half, and we basically have no way to buy any produce from others. Even after many of those bastards are gone, their houses still haven't relaxed their vigilance towards us. We can't use the relief funds anymore because that stupid brat has an eye on them and I don't want to give him anything else to attack us with. Those stinking farmers will probably gamble away any money we give them."
The Count's face flushed red, prompting the nurse to take a step closer once more, but feeling the pain in her arm from where she had hit a bookshelf after being shoved made her retreat.
"Most crops were harvested in November and we have to wait until July for the next harvesting season. We won't make it with what we have in the granary to plant next year, but we can't buy grain from outside, and we don't have enough manpower to fight an uprising after all those goddamned conscriptions. We need the money. We can't-"
Another coughing fit stained the bandages on his abdomen red. Ron stood up in a hurry, gesturing for the nurse to call the doctor.
"I understand, my Lord. Please stay still. We can't let the wound worsen any more. I will do as you say."
After that, Ron barely had any time to bid his wife goodbye before he sat on the fist coach towards Vinoa with a missive in his pocket they had received weeks before from their investor, Mr. Laurier. The paper now laid crumpled on top of the table, the words 'wait in front of the port' barely visible between the creases.
The port city was far away from the capital, Singre, so although the news of the public hangings did reach it, the tension was diluted by the bustling commercial life in the streets. Ron took another breath of salty air before a soft voice almost made him fall off his chair.
"Mr. Ron?"
A pretty young girl stood there wearing a red dress and shiny new shoes. Her hair was tied away from her grey eyes by a bright crimson ribbon that matched the fabric of her skirts.
Ron almost couldn't recognize this young lady, after all, she looked so different wearing something other than her usual worn-down outfit from the times he had seen her speaking with his master. Her face also seemed somehow softer while she stood straight with her gloved hands demurely clasped in front of her waist as she looked at him.
"Mr. Ron, good afternoon."
Her curtsying figure called the attention of the rest of the people sitting at the pub, so he quickly suggested to go speak elsewhere.
"Good afternoon, Miss. Would you kindly accompany me for a walk?"
Neera understood the message and nodded, grabbing the man's elbow as he escorted her along the port's boardwalk. To any passerby they simply looked like father and daughter, taking a stroll while watching the ships and the birds come and go.
"How have things been in the county, Mr. Ron?"
Ron didn't mind the informal way of addressing him. If anything, it would be better if no one around heard his last name, so he didn't correct her, nor did he ask for her name either.
"Pretty bad. As your master expected, there was an assassination attempt on the Count only four days ago. That is why I have come in his stead."
"Oh, that is sad to hear."
Neera tried not to show the surprise in her face. She knew the Duke would move quickly, but she didn't expect it to be so soon. It seemed like the purging she had instigated in the court didn't keep him as occupied as she expected.
'Maybe he suspects something?'
There was no way Elron would ever compromise their deal for his own pride, but Alea had already revealed both of them had access to every room in the castle, otherwise the guards would have never been able to discover the tunnels. If the Duke connected the dots and realized Elron couldn't gather all that information by himself with his current ability, things could turn significantly dangerous from here on out.
Neera calmed her beating heart as she subtly drew in a breath.
'No that is not it. If that were the case the military search for both of us would be much wider since we have sensitive information regarding all the houses in the court. Besides, Alea would never be so dumb as to antagonize her sole possible savior, and would instead use this information to ensure her safety. The Duke probably believes one of the houses that remains standing gave his son the information and incited him to act on it.'
That would explain his rush to quickly dispose of anyone he deemed a threat to his position.
'Elron has to tread really carefully now.'
Neera consciously chose to ignore the bitter feeling in her throat when she thought of Alea and whether she was still alive, instead pushing her mind elsewhere.
Ron's voice drifted into her ears once again.
"-t was the men I mentioned in my letter before. Did your master tell you I noticed them? But I couldn't say anything and now the Count is-"
Neera stopped mid-step, pulling Ron to a halt with her.
"Mr. Ron, I understand your uneasiness, but we both know that it is an inevitable outcome."
Her frigid eyes rooted him to the spot way more strongly than the soft pull on his arm ever could. A cold smile then graced her lips, bringing shivers down his spine.
"Now, shall we talk business?"