When morning arrived, the men gathered their supplies, saddled their horses, and prepared to depart. The air was crisp, with the faint smell of dew lingering over the camp.
"We are two days late; we must move quickly to make up for lost time," Orig's deputy announced, his voice stern and commanding.
Taya stood near the carriage, her eyes scanning the group. She looked for Orig, but he was nowhere to be seen. A faint crease appeared on her brow as she sighed and climbed into her seat in the cart, frustrated but unwilling to ask questions.
The convoy set off soon after, the rhythmic creaking of wheels and the clatter of hooves filling the silence. Unbeknownst to Taya, Orig had already left ahead of the group with a small unit to secure the path.
Taya leaned against the cart's window, gazing at the scenery as it passed. The dense trees lining the road swayed gently in the morning breeze, casting shadows that danced across the ground. The river sparkled in the distance, a winding thread of silver cutting through the land.
"Damn, why did they avoid the road through the forest?" Taya muttered under her breath. "It's the safest route compared to staying near the river." She leaned out of the carriage to get a better view of the surrounding area.
Her murmuring didn't go unnoticed. As her head peeked out of the carriage, her eyes locked onto Orig's sharp glare from a distance. His intense gaze silenced her instantly, sending a clear message: return to your seat and stay quiet.
Still, the unease in Taya's chest didn't subside.
"This road is full of bandits; we should change our path," she said aloud, her voice carrying farther than she intended. The echo of her words seemed to linger in the air, drawing the attention of everyone around her.
She froze, her face flushing with embarrassment. 'Huh? Did I just say that out loud?' she thought, swallowing hard. Her heart sank as she realized how her outburst could expose their position to potential enemies.
Orig's voice cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving. "Your Grace, you're the dumbest person I've ever met—without meaning to insult you, of course. Can't you sit down and stay silent? That's too much to ask, isn't it? Enough with playing the role of a savior or a seer who knows everything before it happens. Just stop, okay?"
His words came through the carriage window, laced with irritation.
Taya, determined to maintain her composure, pretended not to hear him. She gazed at her fingernails, feigning distraction, rolling her eyes as though his reprimand were beneath her notice. If he were inside the carriage, she thought with a smirk, he'd probably drag her out by her hair.
Orig's men exchanged glances, astonished by his patience. This was not the prince they knew—the one who had no tolerance for insolence. Yet here he was, letting her antics slide.
The journey continued uneventfully for a time. The road stretched ahead, the tension slowly easing as the group moved farther from the river. Taya allowed herself to relax, her earlier worries fading.
But her calm didn't last.
Without warning, a hail of arrows tore through the air, striking the convoy. Screams erupted as several men fell, clutching their wounds. Chaos broke out as the group scrambled to respond.
Orig, always at the forefront, engaged three attackers at once. His sword moved like a blur, each swing precise and deadly.
"Where did these people come from?" one of his men shouted, struggling to fend off an attacker.
Taya's own scream cut through the din, drawing attention. Orig's blood boiled as his eyes darted to her. One of the bandits had grabbed her by the hair, yanking her from the carriage and throwing her to the ground.
The sight of her sprawled on the dirt, vulnerable, ignited a fury within him. With brutal efficiency, Orig decapitated the three men surrounding him. Their heads hit the ground in quick succession, blood pooling at his feet. The surviving bandits faltered, terror gripping them as they witnessed his ferocity.
In a flash, Orig was behind the man holding Taya. He delivered a crushing blow that sent the bandit to his knees, reducing him to a trembling mess begging for mercy. Orig showed none.
Mr. Aryo, one of the senior men in the convoy, helped Taya to her feet. She dusted herself off, her expression calm despite the chaos. She had seen this brutal side of Orig before—it neither shocked her nor unsettled her. Instead, she remained composed, her demeanor almost unnervingly serene.
"You severed his head before we could extract information," Orig's deputy said, rubbing his temples in exasperation. He handed a towel to Orig, who wiped the blood from his hands and face with practiced indifference.
Orig glanced at Taya, his piercing gaze scanning her from head to toe. He noted the dirt smudging her dress and the slight trembling of her hands.
Taya, sensing his scrutiny, quickly hid her hands behind her back. Her thoughts raced. 'If this dress wasn't long enough, these bandits might have taught them all a real lesson,' she mused bitterly, blaming herself for the ambush.
"Let's move," Orig barked, his tone sharp and commanding. He gestured to the healer to finish tending to the injured men quickly. Then, his steps carried him toward Taya, who stood lost in thought.
"Did you not hear me? Get in the cart," he said coldly, his voice like ice.
Taya raised her gaze to meet his. She didn't argue, sensing the futility of resistance. As she stepped toward the carriage, her ankle gave way, and she nearly fell. Orig caught her swiftly, his strong grip steadying her.
"Are you okay? That damned bandit didn't hurt you, did he?" Orig's voice softened slightly as he lifted her into the carriage.
Taya shook her head, hiding the pain in her ankle. But Orig wasn't fooled. His sharp eyes noticed the swelling as he gently raised the hem of her dress. Anger flared in his features as he bit down on his teeth, muttering curses under his breath.
"I'm sorry," Taya whispered, her voice barely audible. "I caused this. Your men got hurt because of me." She glanced out the window, her expression filled with guilt.
Orig's mind whirred. 'Is this girl normal? She just witnessed a massacre, got injured herself, and she's apologizing for someone else's suffering?'
He poured cold water onto her ankle, the sudden chill making her gasp. Her hand shot out, clutching his shoulder as her breath brushed against his neck. Orig froze for a moment, his mind racing.
'Is she doing this on purpose? Trying to distract me? To manipulate me?' he wondered, watching her pained expression.
"That's enough. Try not to move it," he said curtly, wrapping her ankle with a strip of cloth.
"Thank you," Taya murmured, her tone sincere. She had never seen this side of him before. Was he always this gentle, or had she simply never noticed?
"Are you trying to gain my sympathy?" Orig asked, his voice cold once again.
Taya suppressed a laugh, tilting her head. "Don't flatter yourself. You're neither my favorite nor my type. But I can still thank you for saving me, can't I?"
Her words, paired with a look of nonchalance, irritated him. Yet, strangely, they also grounded him.
"If that's the case, fine," Orig muttered, closing the cart door behind him. His words echoed in her mind long after he left, leaving her to wonder what they truly meant.
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