On a broad path in the forest, bathing in the orange light of the sun, the sound of the wheels of a carriage echoed along with the neighs of horses.
Behind the carriage was a wagon. The heap was covered so no one could discern what was in it.
"Sir, something is wrong." A man in a trench coat and a western-styled hat folded at both sides said to a robust bald man.
"What is.." Before the robust man could complete his sentence, the carriage stopped. "I told that damn peasant not to stop unless we reach the market square! I'll teach that bastard a lesson." He cursed, pushed the door open and came down.
His fearless gait stemmed from his Tier 3 bodyguard, who sat in the carriage with him.
His intention to whip the coachman vanished when he saw the figure sitting on a branch, swinging her snow-white legs.
Gulping, he raised his head to her face. Although half of her face was covered by a black mask, he couldn't doubt her peerless beauty.
