The guards swiftly sprang into action, pushing against the smoothly worn handles of the sliding gate.
With a low rumble, the gate began to inch open, revealing the tall, imposing figure of Caym Fairburne. His dark armor seemed to absorb the dawn's feeble light, casting shadows across his stern face. His eyes widened in concern and confusion as they fell upon Ingrid, her nightgown clinging to her trembling form, her feet stained with blood.
"Your Highness? Why are you here?" Caym asked, his brows furrowed as he took as step closer. "Let's treat your wound first."
Ingrid's gaze, he once remembered as sharp and regal, was clouded with despair. "I'm searching for Jaquelyn and Lorraine," she murmured, her words barely audible above the rustle of leaves.
Caym froze, his jaw clenched tight. He had faced countless crises, but seeing the princess in such anguish stirred an unfamiliar ache within him. "Your Highness, that is what I came here for. But we must first tend your wounds. Let us go back—"
"My wounds? Do you believe I care about that?" Ingrid's voice cracked, her body visibly trembling as she curled her hands into fists. "Once a servant steps beyond these walls, they're banished forever. Isn't that right?"
Caym felt a lump form in his throat as he witnessed tears cascading down Ingrid's cheeks. His outstretched hand froze in mid-air, suspended by the realization that offering comfort was venturing far beyond the boundaries of his duty.
Ingrid's eyes remained locked onto Caym as her tears persisted in their silent descent. "Please answer me, Grand Commander," she said, her voice a desperate plea.
Caym took a deep breath before his voice cut through the heavy silence.
"Jacquelyn Moor and Lorraine Saunders," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Have been found guilty of negligence of duty, permitting a dangerous individual to approach their master, Princess Ingrid of Ásjáheimr — a symbol of peace and honored guest of the Sylvania Empire. Therefore, they are hereby sentenced to ten lashes and immediate relief from their duties."
The Grand Commander's words hung heavily in the courtyard, casting a stifling pall over the guards, who exchanged furtive glances between their leader and the princess.
"Negligence of duty," Ingrid murmured, her voice quivering as she stared at the ground. Her gaze then returned to Caym, her tone barely audible, "They have faithfully served me for over a decade. What is the meaning of all this?"
Caym's jaw tightened as he answered, "It is exactly as I said, Your Highness. Your maids have been dismissed from the Imperial Palace."
Ingrid's breath caught in her throat, her voice barely audible as she murmured, "Dismissed..." The word hung heavy in the air, laden with disbelief. Her breaths grew shallow, and her knees buckled beneath her.
Caym's eyes widened as he witnessed the color drain from the princess's face. Without hesitation, he reached out, his strong arms enveloping her delicate form just before her legs surrendered to gravity.
"Call the doctor!" Caym's command sliced through the tense air, his gaze piercing and deadly.
Almost immediately, the sound of hurried footsteps grew louder, drawing a group of servants bearing a blanket and slippers.
"Oh, no. The Princess!" Their exclamations were laced with shock as they approached.
Caym's fury simmered beneath his surface. "Where have these servants been?" he seethed inwardly.
He snatched the blanket from a servant's hands and swiftly wrapped it around Ingrid. With an effortless strength, he lifted her slight form from the cold ground. Ignoring the concerned questions of the onlooking servants, he turned toward the castle gates.
"Grand Commander? Where are you taking the princess?" Their voices quivered with worry and confusion.
Caym's brows furrowed, his anger palpable. "Go back to your duties," he growled, his tone leaving no room for further inquiry.
"But Commander, the Princess cannot—"
"Stay where you are," commanded the guards, their voices firm and unwavering. They extended their arms, blocking the path of the bewildered servants. Confusion painted the servants' faces as they exchanged uncertain glances.
Caym strode purposefully toward the Southwest gate, Ingrid's unconscious form securely cradled in his arms. He paid no heed to the knights who exchanged bewildered glances and continued on his path.
Caym's footsteps echoed through the empty infirmary as he hurried inside, his eyes darting around the room until they landed on the familiar faces of Dr. Felix and his daughters, Cynthia and Leila.
The healers looked up, their eyes widening in shock at the sight of Ingrid's unconscious form. Without a moment's hesitation, they sprang into action.
Dr. Felix, a seasoned healer with kind eyes and steady hands, quickly moved near an empty bed, gesturing for Caym to gently lay Ingrid down.
"Grand Commander, I need to know her identity later. But for now, what in the world happened to this lady's feet?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with concern as he assessed Ingrid's condition. He looked up at Caym, his eyes searching for answers. "Did something terrible befall her at your hands?"
Caym's gaze met Dr. Felix's, and took a moment to reply. "She was running barefoot and collapsed," he said, his face carefully neutral. "But perhaps you can say that as well."
Dr. Felix raised his brows, his daughters already bustling around the infirmary, preparing the necessary supplies. "Well... we will do everything we can," he assured Caym. "Thank you for bringing her here so swiftly."
As the doctor and his daughters worked tirelessly to tend to Ingrid, Caym found himself pacing outside the infirmary after sending orders for his men to control the Lily Palace. His thoughts were a whirlwind of worry for the princess and anger at the circumstances that led to her distress.
"We must ensure this incident remains confidential," he reflected, his eyes fixating on the infirmary door.
After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Felix emerged from the infirmary, his expression grave.
"She's stable for now," Dr. Felix said, his voice steady but concerned. "But her emotional state is fragile. It's important to keep her away from any stress or unnecessary disturbances. I've given her a sedative to help her rest. She needs time to recover both physically and emotionally."
"I understand," Caym responded, his expression unreadable.
Dr. Felix regarded Caym with concern. "Commander, it's crucial to realize that anyone who lays eyes on her will undoubtedly identify her as the Ásján princess. You're well aware that a royal captive is strictly confined within the Lily Palace. Not even Emperor Thornton could take the Princess of Soklova outside during his time as crown prince," he cautioned. "I'm genuinely concerned for your safety."
Caym locked eyes with Dr. Felix. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor, but you need not worry about me," he said firmly.
Dr. Felix sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Very well, Commander. I trust you deeply. But please, exercise extreme caution. The consequences of this breach of protocol could be severe, not just for you but for Princess Ingrid as well," he said.
Caym acknowledged Dr. Felix's words with a solemn nod. His focus shifted to the closed curtains.
Of course, he was well aware of his actions and their implications. He has been serving in the army since the age of 16. He had climbed the ranks, from the lowest to the highest. He had even been assigned to guard the Lily Palace in the past, intimately familiar with its strict regulations.
Despite his deep understanding of the consequences, he harbored no regret in his heart.
Ah, indeed. This moment marked the very first time that Caym Fairburne had openly disobeyed the laws of the empire.