The forest was full of whispers.
Bill crouched down, hiding in the shadows of a tall oak tree. The cold wind moved through the bushes, bringing the sound of wagon wheels creaking and horses snorting nervously.
He held his sword tightly, his blue eyes fixed on the caravan slowly moving along the narrow road.
"That's them," Leo whispered, his voice so soft it was hard to hear. He leaned forward, his excited face showing how little experience he had. "Silks, jewels, spices—just like last time."
"Be quiet," Bill said, making a sharp hand gesture. He didn't look away from the caravan.
Bill wasn't interested in the goods inside the wagons. His job was not just stealing. The Northern elders had sent him to stop the Southern merchants and warn them to stay out of the North.
But Bill's attention wasn't on the goods. It was on the figure at the rear of the caravan—a slender man wrapped in a cloak, his young face calm but watchful. His movements were too graceful, his hands too delicate.
This "Rock Fisher," the rumored illegitimate son of the Fisher family, didn't quite fit the image of a hardened merchant.
"Boss, should we attack now?" Leo asked again, his voice louder this time.
"Not yet," Bill said firmly. "They'll stop soon. Then we move."
The caravan came to a halt, just as Bill had expected. Guards shouted to the drivers, telling them to feed the horses and rest. Bill smiled. People were so easy to predict.
"Get into position," he ordered. His men silently disappeared into the shadows, moving closer to the caravan.
Bill's eyes stayed on Rock. There was something about him—a strange pull, like a riddle waiting to be solved.
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Inside the wagon, Rose pulled her cloak tighter around her.
The air in the forest felt heavy, and the smell of damp leaves made her uneasy.
"Rock, we should move soon," said Wood, her steward, as he rode closer. His voice was low and careful.
Rose nodded, trying to calm her racing heart. Disguised as Rock Fisher, her father's illegitimate son, she was taking a great risk. The cargo was critical to her family's reputation, and after the last shipment was lost, she had insisted on overseeing this one herself.
"Keep moving!" she called out, trying to sound confident. But as she gripped the edge of the window, her fingers turned white from the pressure. For this delivery journey, Rose had hired 12 guards, something that had never been done before.
The Fisher family rarely experienced their goods being stolen. This was almost unheard of in their long history of trade.
The empire was currently at peace, and although the route to Jack's territory passed near the border of the Northern Empire, there had been little contact between the two sides. For decades, nothing serious had ever happened.
Suddenly, the sound of a horse interrupted Rose's thoughts.
"Stop! Danger!" Wood shouted. The guards quickly drew their swords and moved to protect the wagons.
Rose peeked out of the window. Her heart sank. Tall men dressed in black were coming out of the forest, their curved swords shining in the dim light. They moved like shadows, fast and silent, surrounding the caravan.
"Stay in the wagon, Master Rock!" Wood shouted. He charged at the attackers but was quickly knocked to the ground.
Rose grabbed the small dagger hidden in her sleeve. She wanted to run, but the caravan was surrounded. The wagon was her only shelter, but for how long?
Rose curled up inside the wagon, gripping the dagger hidden in her sleeve. Her fingers were so tight on the handle that they turned white. The sharp blade almost cut into her palm.
Time passed slowly, and finally, a sound was heard.
"Bill, we've dealt with most of them," a rough voice called out into the night. It came from a big man who sounded proud of his work.
He walked over to a tall man with blue eyes.
"Leo, you did well this time," the man named Bill said. His voice was low and strong, and it was clear he was the leader of the black-cloaked group.
Bill walked past the fallen guards and wagons, heading straight for Rose's wagon. A small smile appeared on his face as he stopped in front of the door. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open with force.
Rose looked up, her face pale with fear. Her eyes met Bill's cold, sharp blue eyes.
Her heart felt like it stopped for a moment, then started racing so fast it hurt.
Bill was tall, his wide shoulders blocking the firelight behind him. His shadow seemed to fill the whole wagon. The firelight lit up his face, showing strong features and a tight jaw. His eyes were as sharp as blades, and they stared at her without mercy.
Rose gripped her dagger tightly, her hands icy cold.
Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest. She knew there was no way to escape now. She could only fight.
"Come out!" Bill's voice boomed, like thunder in her ears. It was so loud it hurt.
Rose shook her head, refusing to leave the wagon.
Bill stepped forward, reaching in to pull her out.
"Let go of me!" Rose screamed.
She swung her dagger at Bill's arm.
The blade cut his sleeve, and blood began to flow, staining the fabric red.
Bill grunted in pain but didn't back away.
Instead, his hand shot out and grabbed Rose's wrist.
He twisted it sharply, and the dagger fell to the floor with a clang.
Rose cried out as her wrist felt like it might break.
Bill looked carefully at Rose.
Her skin was smooth and soft. Her small body was like a little boy's, but her voice sounded like a woman's. To confirm his doubts, Bill used his big rough hand to pull Rose into his arms. He grabbed her collar and pulled it down, showing her white, delicate skin and deep cleavage.
Rose felt both ashamed and angry. She tried hard to resist, but Bill was too strong for her to escape.
Bill smiled in a playful way.
His smile showed he was teasing her and enjoying taking control.
Slowly, he reached out his hand. His rough fingers touched the edge of Rose's hat.
The hat was simple and dull, made of rough cloth, but it was high quality. It covered Rose's blonde hair. Rose's eyes filled with tears, as if she could not bear to be exposed any further.
Bill ignored her tears. His eyes narrowed, showing a dangerous look. He pulled on the hat with his fingers. The hat flew into the air like a scared bird and fell into the darkness, where it disappeared.
Without the hat, Rose's carefully hidden golden hair spilled down like a waterfall. In the flickering firelight, her hair shone brightly, almost pushing away the surrounding darkness.
The soft strands slid over her pale cheek, where traces of unshed tears made her look even more pitiful. Her long hair fell over her delicate shoulders, following the curve of her body, reaching down to her hands, still bound by Bill.
The beauty of her hair contrasted sharply with her terrified face and awkward posture, showing her weakness and helplessness.
For a moment, it felt as if time had stopped.
"Wow, didn't expect they were protecting such a beauty!" one of the men in black whistled, breaking the brief silence.
"Yeah, her hair—wow, it's brighter than gold!" another man in black agreed, his voice filled with greed and desire.
The surrounding men paused for a moment, then burst into loud laughter, sharp whistles, and dirty words.
Their greedy eyes roamed over Rose, as if she wasn't a person, but an object to be judged and spoken of however they wanted. Some whistled and clicked their tongues in admiration.
One even reached out his dirty hand to touch Rose's soft golden hair.
"Hey, little beauty, don't be scared, we'll take good care of you!"
One rough-looking man was looking at her, his words like a slimy snake, making Rose feel disgusted.
At this moment,Bill shouted loudly,
"Shut up!"
His deep, powerful voice carried a commanding tone, silencing the noisy men.
"Yeah, yeah, the boss has never cared about any woman like this!" another man in black joined in, as if hoping Bill would get bored and let them share her.
Bill's face darkened instantly.
He turned around sharply, his cold, sharp eyes sweeping over the men like a blade.
The men were first shocked by Bill's roar, then they broke into even louder laughter.
"Haha, Bill, you finally figured it out! We almost thought you didn't like women!" one man laughed, clutching his stomach.
Loud, crude laughter filled the air again, like a wave crashing over Rose, drowning her in humiliation and despair.
Rose bit her lip so hard it lost its color.
She tried not to cry out, but the tears kept falling, leaving shiny trails on her face.
Rose refused to accept becoming an object. She lifted her bound hands, trying to break free, but Bill roughly lifted her above his head, like lifting a lamb to the slaughter.
Rose's feet dangled in the air as she struggled helplessly, unable to break free from Bill's iron grip. She closed her eyes in despair, letting the tears fall silently.