An Uninvited Guest.
Elara sat stiffly on the cot, her back pressed against the coarse fabric as the physician, an older woman with kind but sharp eyes, her hands were swift and precise, yet gentle, as they unraveled the makeshift bandages that had held together the remnants of Elara's endurance. The faint lavender scent, coming from the physician, soothing Elara's senses. The physician's furrowed brow deepened as the full extent of the wounds came into view, her usually calm demeanor faltering.
"You've been walking around with this?" she said incredulously, her voice low but sharp. "How in the world have you managed this long?"
Elara glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the wound in the physician's mirror. The deep stab was surrounded by an ominous discoloration, blackened skin streaked with crimson veins that seemed to pulse faintly. It looked nothing like any injury she had ever seen—or thought possible.
"Pain tolerance," Elara replied curtly, keeping her tone neutral. She needed to maintain the illusion of familiarity in this strange world.
The physician frowned deeply. "Tolerance or not, this is no ordinary injury. I don't know of any poison or venom that causes such discoloration." Her fingers hovered over the wound before pulling away. "This needs immediate attention from the head physician at the Aeternum mansion. He may have knowledge of whatever this is. You should not be here, my lady—not in this condition."
Elara hesitated, unsure how to respond. The physician's clear distress only deepened her unease.
Her gaze wandered across the dimly lit tent, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Something glimmered on a nearby table, catching her attention. A scroll, intricately sealed with golden wax bearing an elaborate crest, rested atop a pile of documents. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed the bold, precise script of her name on the outside:
"Elara Lupina Aeternum, Commander of the Aeternum Forces."
Her fingers itched to unroll it, but the physician's voice pulled her back.
"Hold still, Commander," the physician murmured, though her tone held an edge of unease.
Commander. Lupina. Aeternum.
The words spun in her mind, trying to root themselves in a reality she couldn't recall. She didn't dare ask questions that might betray her confusion, especially not in front of the physician who seemed to scrutinize her closely.
Elara leaned back slightly, processing the information. She didn't want to give anything away, but her confusion must have shown because the physician added softly, "You really don't remember any of this, do you?"
"Remember what?" Elara asked cautiously. Is there something else she must have known?
"How you argued with your brother, the Grand Duke, over bringing me along," the physician said, a faint smile creeping into her voice, though there was a trace of unease as well. "You insisted we only needed nurses for minor injuries, but the Grand Duke insisted otherwise—said I'd be needed. And then you told me, in no uncertain terms, not to set foot in your tent later, even if you were dying." The physician hesitated, her tone softening. "I thought you might still be angry with me for following his orders."
Elara blinked, taken aback by the revelation. Her mind reeled—this supposed brother of hers was a Grand Duke? And her relationship with him, if the physician's account was true, seemed tense at best. The physician's words about the argument painted a clearer picture of the person everyone thought she was. Elara, however, couldn't shake the realization that this version of herself had a sharp tongue and a fiery temper.
After a beat of silence, Elara's curiosity got the better of her. "Have you been working with the Aeternum family for long?" she asked carefully, hoping the question didn't sound out of place.
The physician, taken aback, gave her a searching look before nodding. "Yes. For years. Why do you ask?" Her surprise was evident, as if the question was strange coming from Elara.
Elara opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a voice from outside the tent. "Commander Lupina?" Dren's familiar tone rang through. "A guest has arrived."
Relieved by the distraction, Elara turned toward the entrance. "A guest? Was anyone due to arrive?" she asked, wary of exposing any gaps in her knowledge.
"No, Commander," the soldier replied from outside. "But we cannot send him away."
Her brows furrowed. "Why not?"
The soldier hesitated before adding, "It's the Crown Prince, your grace."
Elara's heart skipped. Her fingers gripped the edge of the cot as her mind raced. The Crown Prince? Here? Why?
"I'll be out in a moment," she called, her voice firm.
The physician turned to her, whispering, "You should rest. The prince will understand—"
Before she could finish, the tent flap swept open, revealing a man whose mere presence seemed to command the air around him.He was tall, with an elegance that bordered on ethereal. His hair, a silken cascade of pale gold with a faint rosy sheen, framed his face, which was both strikingly beautiful and utterly authoritative. His crimson eyes shimmered faintly, like embers glowing in the dark, exuding an intensity that matched his commanding presence.
He wore a red coat, its fabric thick and tailored to shield against the biting cold, adorned with intricate golden embroidery that added a touch of grandeur. Medals gleamed on his chest, their designs hinting at his high station and achievements. Beneath the coat, a white shirt with subtle rose embroidery along the edges of the collar peeked through, a nod to his royal heritage. His red trousers were practical yet well-fitted, suited for movement. A heavy cloak draped over his shoulders, the dark fabric lined with fur to fend off the snowy chill, completing his ensemble.
Despite the utilitarian purpose of his attire, the meticulous craftsmanship and understated opulence in the details betrayed the man behind the guise of a simple hunter—this was a prince whose mere presence could command the loyalty of armies and the hearts of nations.
Behind him, the soldier who had announced his arrival—Lieutenant Dren, followed hesitantly, his posture stiff.
The physician moved quickly, throwing a blanket over Elara to preserve her modesty.
The physician quickly bowed deeply. "Your Highness, You should have waited," the physician admonished quietly, her voice sharp but respectful.
Elara, however, remained seated, her gaze steady but guarded. She refused to cower, even in the face of this imposing figure.
"Elara Lupina Aeternum," he said, ignoring the physician's sharp gaze, his voice smooth and commanding.
The way he said her name made her stomach churn.
However, she gave him a curt nod as she replied "Your Highness," her voice steady despite her internal turmoil.
The prince's expression softened slightly, though it retained its edge of authority. "I'm relieved to see you alive. I am glad they were able to find you" He looked around not hearing any answer from this small group of three.
"I heard from a passing mercenary group about the ordeal in the Aeternum encampment," he began, his tone even and authoritative. "They mentioned a commander of exceptional skill had gone missing and was later found."
The physician and Dren exchanged subtle glances, the disbelief clear in their eyes. The excuse seemed far-fetched, especially for someone of his status to take such an immediate interest. Still, neither dared voice their skepticism aloud.
Adrian, seemingly unbothered by their reactions, continued, "I was nearby hunting with my men. When I heard of the situation, I felt it necessary to check on one of the empire's most brilliant commanders. After all, the strength of the empire lies in those who serve it."
Elara, listening quietly, didn't react outwardly but filed the information away. She already knew the truth—the supposed mercenaries who found her were actually royal knights sent by the Crown Prince. His story was crafted with care, but it didn't fool her. However, she kept this fact to herself, deciding to observe him further before drawing any conclusions.
Elara's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't aware I was LOST."
The corner of his mouth twitched—a flicker of amusement, or perhaps intrigue. "Not lost," he corrected. "Missing. And you've had quite the ordeal, from what I hear."
She didn't respond, unsure how much he knew.
Turning to the physician, the prince asked, "How is she?" Her color has turned paler.
The physician's lips pressed into a thin line. "Bad enough that she should've collapsed long before now. The stab wound is severe and has started turning black, with crimson veins forming around it. I suspect poison, but I've never seen anything like this. She should have been writhing in agony, yet here she is." She answered, glancing toward Elara with concern. "We need to get her to the head physician at Aeternum Mansion immediately. He might recognize it. Waiting longer could be fatal."
Elara flinched slightly but kept her composure. "Fatal? I feel fine enough."
The physician gave her a sharp look. "That's precisely what's alarming. You shouldn't feel fine. This poison—whatever it is—is suppressing your pain. Likely to keep you moving until…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Your Highness, this isn't something I can treat here. We have to leave soon."
The Crown Prince's expression darkened, and the air in the tent seemed to chill. "Your condition is far worse than I was led to believe," he said, his tone firm but edged with concern. "This is unacceptable."
"Prepare to move. We leave for the Aeternum estate immediately." The Crown ordered sharply as he turned to Lieutenant Dren.
Hesitating, Dren shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the order. "Your Highness, our orders are to return to the Imperial Palace to report to the Supreme Commander and deliver the captives. Delaying—"
"To hell with the orders!" the Crown Prince snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "I'll deal with the Supreme Commander personally. Your priority is your commander's survival. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to explain to the Grand Duke why she didn't make it back alive?"
Dren flinched at the sharp rebuke, his gaze flickering toward Elara, who sat silently, her expression carefully neutral, still, she nodded slightly. "Understood, Your Highness," Dren muttered reluctantly, stepping back to relay the new orders.
The Crown Prince turned his attention back to Elara, his tone softening just slightly. "You'll be taken care of," he said firmly. "That's not up for debate."
The tension in the tent thickened like smoke. The physician exchanged a subtle glance with Dren as he left, both clearly unsettled by the Crown Prince's uncharacteristic outburst. His concern seemed oddly personal, far more than a sense of duty to an esteemed commander.
Elara watched him, her thoughts a tangled storm. She knew little of this man, aside from the flashes of his title and demeanor, yet his fierce protection of her left an undeniable impression. Why would the Crown Prince care so deeply? His story of stumbling upon the situation didn't align with the truth she already knew.
Still, Elara said nothing, masking her suspicion behind an unreadable expression. For now, she would observe.