Karel finally withdrew his suffocating aura, the oppressive weight lifting from Seraphina's chest like a boulder being rolled away. The rank-two knight leaned back in his chair, his disappointment palpable as he studied the trio before him.
"Pathetic."
He muttered, though his tone carried no malice— only apathy, as though he was accustomed to such responses.
Seraphina gasped quietly, trying to steady her breathing.
Her thoughts raced, her mind trying its best to piece together fragments of plans, calculating risks, and trying desperately to conceal the sheer terror that threatened to consume her. Yet it was all just rambling, in the end, her mind was just running ideas without any way to accomplish them— it was her mind trying to distract her from the terror.
Her violet eyes flicked toward Edwin and Samuel. Both were visibly struggling, Edwin's face pale from exertion, Samuel clutching his side where blood seeped through his tunic.
Karel's piercing gaze shifted to Edwin as the knight opened his mouth to speak.
"Quiet."
Karel said, his voice sharp and commanding.
"Servants don't speak for their masters."
Edwin froze mid-sentence, his lips pressing into a thin line. Karel's attention returned to Seraphina, his expression suddenly curious.
"You're the leader."
Karel said matter-of-factly, as though the observation were self-evident.
Seraphina's breath caught, but she said nothing— she couldn't understand how he came to such a conclusion.
"Your knights—"
He gestured to Edwin and Samuel with a flick of his hand as if seeing the confusion on her face as a chance to explain.
"—gave you away. My men described how they fought in the skirmish. They were protecting you, weren't they? They kept close to you to deal with any strays that got close, prioritizing your safety over their own."
Karel paused, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if reading her soul.
"Even here, under my aura, they shifted subtly to place themselves between you and me. That's not mere friendship or camaraderie. That's loyalty. Subservience. You are their master."
Seraphina clenched her jaw, her mind stunned at his deduction— it wasn't hard to deduce from the way he explained it, but who would bother looking for something like that in the first place.
Karel was not a fool. He had deduced the dynamics of their group with unsettling accuracy.
Karel leaned forward slightly, his rugged face illuminated by the dim light in the tent.
"So, who are you?"
He asked again, his tone laced with both amusement and danger.
Seraphina hesitated, her heart pounding as she thought about the various responses she could give. In the end, she settled on one she deemed extremely stupid but possibly very good.
She understood the gamble she was about to take.
Her true identity, properly leveraged, could serve as a shield, a deterrent, and perhaps even a bargaining chip.
There were three reasons she came to this conclusion.
The man would be less inclined to kill her knowing her identity because that could bring the wraith of her father, a high-ranking knight; it had to be said that some high-ranking families had tools to locate the killer of their family members. Albeit that's a tale from the past— but most people believed it, and she doubted he wanted to risk it being true.
Secondly, he wouldn't give her up because that would result in him dying for having captured and injured her badly.
And lastly, he might have use for her, given her position, thus keeping her alive. These weren't all the reasons, just the main ones that she decided to risk it on.
Finally, she spoke, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.
"I am Seraphina Augustina Willows, daughter of the Willows Dukedom."
The words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, the room was silent— shock lingered on the man's face for a second before he finally snapped out of it.
Karel's lips curled into a faint smile, a mix of skepticism and amusement flashing across his features.
"Ah, the elusive daughter of the Willows Dukedom."
He said, leaning back in his chair.
"The rumors of your existence are... inconsistent, to say the least. Some say you're a recluse, others that you're a frail shadow of nobility. You're apparently the reason I was even able to enter this nation."
He chuckled, his voice low and gravelly.
"And yet, here you are, missing an arm, battered and bloodied, claiming to be of noble birth. It's almost poetic."
Seraphina remained silent, her gaze wavering at his words but she kept a strong front. She knew Karel wasn't entirely convinced, but his next words confirmed that her gamble had caught his interest.
"Whether you speak the truth or spin a tale, I find myself curious."
Karel's smile widened.
"And I have little to lose by indulging that curiosity."
He gestured toward the map-laden table.
"This camp I've made here."
His tone shifted to that of a businesslike one, his passion showing.
"Is but a small piece of a much larger plan. You and your companions have stumbled into something far beyond a mere bandit raid."
Karel's gaze sharpened, and the air grew heavy again, though not as suffocating as before.
"You've seen my strength, my knights, my men. I have no need for deadweights, nor do I spare lives without reason. But..."
He let the word hang for a moment, his smile returning.
"...I am not without mercy."
Seraphina tensed, sensing the trap in his words.
"I will give you a choice. Serve me. Pledge your loyalty to my cause, and I will spare your lives. Refuse, and your men's deaths will be slow and painful."
Karel's cold eyes settled on Seraphina, his smile turning cruel.
"And you, Lady Willows, will meet a far worse fate. I'll let my men have their fun with you, your death will come that way, by them."
Seraphina's stomach churned, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a vise. She glanced at Edwin and Samuel— Edwin's face was pale, his silver eyes fixed on the ground.
Samuel's fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, his body trembling with barely suppressed rage.
Karel's gaze flicked between the three of them.
"I'll give you a day to consider my offer."
He said, rising from his chair.
"But know this— refusal is not an option. Only fools defy the inevitable."
He motioned to the rank-one knight who had escorted them.
"Take them back to their cell."
The knight stepped forward, roughly shoving Seraphina and her companions toward the exit.
As they were led back through the camp, Seraphina's mind raced. The bandits' strength was overwhelming, their leader's power unmatched— she felt utterly powerless.
Back in their damp, dark cell, Seraphina slumped against the wall, her breath shallow and labored from the pain of the missing arm. Edwin and Samuel sat nearby, their expressions grim.
"We're not giving in."
Samuel said, his voice low but fierce.
"I don't care what it takes. We'll find a way out of this."
Edwin nodded, though his usual calm demeanor was strained.
"We'll need a plan. And time. Both of which we lack."
Seraphina closed her eyes, her remaining hand balling into a fist.
"We have to agree to him. It'll buy us time."
As the cell fell into silence, they each faced various levels of despair— different thoughts lingering in their minds.