Chapter 8 - The hunt

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The maid, tasked with preparing the young ladies to meet the Young Lord, pounds on the door repeatedly. No response. "Misses, I am here to assist you with your bath and dressing," she calls out again.

After a moment's hesitation, she announces, "I must enter now without your permission." She says before pushing open the door to the outer room where the guests had dined the previous evening. Her fellow maids file in behind her, waiting as she enters into the bedchamber.

"It's time for your bath, and…" Her voice falters as she's met with an empty bed. She frantically searches every corner of the room. Finding no trace of the young ladies, she rushes out, breathless and distraught. "They're gone!" she exclaims.

The other maids quickly enter the room to verify her claim, equally shocked by the empty bedchamber. They disperse to scour the manor, searching every inch of the grounds. Still, the guests are not found. Feeling utterly helpless, the lead maid dashes toward the Young Lord's courtyard, clutching her gown.

She spots Achi, the Young Lord's guard, and rushes to him. "They're gone!" she blurts out. Gasping for breath, she pauses before clutching the guard's arm. "The guests are not in their room."

"Have you searched thoroughly?" Achi asks.

"I have searched everywhere," the maid replies, her voice quavering.

"I knew those two were up to no good," Achi mutters, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "Check if anything is missing, and ensure the main courtyard remains unaware of this matter," he instructs before heading off to inform his master.

The Young Lord smiles to himself, hearing Achi's hastening steps approaching. He dips his brush into the ink and gently draws a calligraphy stroke on the sheet of paper before him. "Are they gone?" he guesses even before Achi opens his mouth.

Achi raises a confused brow. "You were expecting this?"

"To an extent."

"Then why did you let them-"

"There is no need to fret, I'm sure they pose no threat," he says, lifting his gaze from the calligraphy sheet to offer a convincing smile. "However, it is quite strange…" He pauses, the brush hovering above the paper.

Achi furrows his brow. "Strange?"

"An oddity," the Young Lord muses, setting his brush aside with care. "One addressed the other as 'Your Highness.' And did you notice? The second seemed to reach for a weapon." He rises, his robes rustling softly as he emerges from behind the desk.

Achi's hand subconsciously moves to the hilt of his sword. "A warrior's reflex. Could they be… assassins?"

A low chuckle escapes the Yung Lord's lips. "What assassin is afraid to scale a fence?" His eyes gleamed with amusement, recalling Yetsune's terrified expression as she wobbled and fell into his arms. She had pursed her lips and shut her eyes so tight in fear, but it was the cutest expression he'd ever seen. He chuckles again. "Her skin may be tanned but it is far too soft. And those hands… they don't possess the calluses of swordplay."

"It might be that the second one is an assassin, while the other…" Achi trails off, struggling to piece together the puzzle.

"Check if anyone of noble identity has entered Velaris these past few days. We may have unwittingly played host to a mischievous noble lady and her protector." His smile widens as he returns to his desk, fingers once again curling around the brush. "And Achi? Ensure my father remains ignorant of this… situation."

Achi bows and leaves to carry out the order. The Young Lord sets aside his brush and reaches beneath the desk to open a drawer, from which he retrieves a rolled scroll.

"Who are you?" he asks the girl in the painting.

His mind had been so clouded with thoughts of her throughout the night that he couldn't get a wink of sleep. He spent the hours before dawn, painting yesterday's scene with only her in his arms. Her loose ponytail swayed in the breeze, doe-like eyes filled with a mix of fear and wonder. Those slightly parted lips, soft and inviting, have etched themselves into his memory, an image he finds himself returning to again and again.

Miles away from the Young Lord's musing, the ladies continue on to their original destination- the imperial hunting ground, where the emperor is bound to stop. They had assumed it would be easy to navigate their way to the hunting ground using the map but it is harder than they thought.

"When exactly will we reach our destination on foot?" Yetsune grumbles, pausing for a brief rest. Had she known it would be such a lengthy trek, she would have preserved some of yesterday's feast. Not only is she tired now, but her stomach aches from overindulgence.

"We might have to seek directions," Erya responds.

"This is why I suggested we steal the vase. We could have exchanged it for horses," Yetsune whines again, reminding Erya of the self-righteousness that has led to their current predicament.

Erya's face turns stern. "I may have agreed to accompany you on this journey, but I cannot let you go astray. How can a Princess resort to petty theft?"

Yetsune opens her mouth to speak but Erya interrupts her. "You were pursuing a child for stealing from you yesterday. How is it that you intend to do the same to someone who has housed and fed you?" Erya scolds, disappointment heavy in her tone.

Erya rarely scolds her, and it annoys her that she's being reprimanded over something seemingly trivial.

"That's different," Yetsune insists. "I was starving back then. The Young Lord appears wealthy—he might not even notice a missing vase. I certainly wouldn't in his position," she argues with a huff.

"Your reasoning still doesn't justify stealing. Imagine if the First Princess were to hear this from you," Erya's voice softens towards the end. Yetsune may fear her parents, but she cares more about what her sister, Yettiri, and Lord Azryn think of her.

Erya goes closer to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your Highness's happiness and comfort are of utmost importance, but you should remember to always uphold the dignity of the Aisin Royal Family."

Yetsune meets her gaze and nods, feeling a twinge of guilt. In this moment, Erya reminds her of the Queen, except Yetsune is certain that Erya genuinely cares for her. Erya offers a faint smile before returning her focus to the map. "We are almost there. Just a little further."

Soldiers stand vigilant around the perimeter of the imperial hunting ground, leaving no chance for trespassers.

"Your Majesty, please take a rest before hunting," the Head Eunuch suggests. The Emperor has hardly taken a rest throughout the tour.

"There's no need. Bring me my horse and armour," the Emperor orders. The Head Eunuch promptly leaves to fulfil the Emperor's request.

"Your Majesty," the Captain of the palace bodyguards salutes. "The hunting ground has been thoroughly scouted. It is safe to commence the hunt," he reports.

The Head Eunuch returns with the Emperor's steed and armour. He assists the Emperor in donning his armour before mounting his majestic steed.

"We depart," the Emperor declares, spurring his mount towards the forest, flanked by a select cadre of officials and soldiers.

The troops ahead start clattering their cymbals to startle the wild animals from their hideaways. The Emperor's keen gaze locks onto an eagle soaring through the azure sky. He raises his bow, eyes narrowing as he aims. A confident smirk plays across his lips as he loses the arrow. It arcs through the air with a deadly whisper and then strikes down the eagle. Soldiers erupt in jubilant cheers, while officials shower praise upon the Emperor's archery skills.

Their celebration is cut short as a red deer bounds into view, its proud antlers cutting through the forest. Excitement pulses through the Emperor's veins at the prospect of capturing such a noble creature. Raising his bow once again, he sets his sights on the deer. Once more, he raises his bow, but before he can lose his arrow, the deer bolts, its graceful form disappearing into the wilderness.

"No one should follow," the Emperor commands. With a sharp tug on the reins, he urges his steed in pursuit of the fleeing deer.

"Your Majesty!" The ministers exclaim out of concern, torn between following his order and leaving him alone in potential danger.

"What should we do?" a minister queries the Captain.

The Captain's eyes remain fixed on the Emperor's rapidly diminishing silhouette. "Follow His Majesty's command" he replies, despite the concern evident in his rigid posture.