Isabel, in the form of Yulia, sat obediently and quietly in the carriage, opposite her was the beautiful woman with platinum blonde curly hair.
The carriage was neither an accomplice coming to aid the other party nor the kind of open-top carriage often seen by the roadside.
It was a carriage owned by a knight or a merchant family, with fruits and exquisite decorations inside the compartment. The soft cushion underneath made the ride less torturous.
It was something the woman had casually hailed from the roadside.
After just one encounter, the other party was completely under her control.
Without questioning what she intended to do, the person smoothly and naturally got out of their own carriage and handed it over to her. As the people inside bade her a warm farewell and left, they didn't sense anything amiss; they hadn't even glanced at Yulia for the duration of the trip.
