Sienna and her party waited
for about an hour. As time passed, the expressions of the knights grew more
tense, especially Gilbert, whose face looked grim.
‘How dare these barbarian
scoundrels keep Her Highness, the Silver King, waiting. How rude.’
The favorable winds had
caused the ship to arrive about half a day earlier than expected, but delays
were common when traveling by sea.
This was an envoy sent by
the Empire at the Confederation’s request. Naturally, the Confederation should
have sent an escort to meet them, greeting them with proper courtesy. After
all, wasn’t the Confederation a vassal state?
‘They should have arrived a
day in advance and been ready, waiting!’
Gilbert suppressed his
simmering anger as he glared at the desert. He couldn’t show his displeasure,
especially since Her Highness had said nothing.
He squinted when he saw
figures moving in the distance. Two riders were approaching, kicking up a cloud
of dust. They were the knights he had sent ahead as scouts. They quickly
dismounted and ran up to Gilbert, bowing.
“They are on their way.”
“Understood. Well done.”
Gilbert reported to Sienna.
“Your Highness, the escort
party will arrive soon.”
Sienna had been sitting in
the shade of a makeshift tent. She stood up and ordered the tent to be taken
down.
“Your Highness, there is no
need to rush. The sun is harsh.”
“They’ve come all this way
to greet us. It wouldn’t be proper to remain seated.”
Gilbert bowed his head in
acknowledgment, though internally he vowed to ensure the guides showed Her
Highness the proper respect or face consequences.
Before long, the guide
party appeared from the direction of the desert. A group of about twenty,
riding in a long line. The more well-dressed members rode horses, while others,
likely laborers, led camels loaded with goods.
The young man leading the
procession pulled on his reins, and the group came to a stop. He dismounted and
approached the imperial envoy.
“Apologies for keeping you
waiting. I am Verota, the lead guide tasked with escorting you to the royal capital.”
Gilbert, standing in front
of Verota, spoke as he gestured to Sienna.
“The envoy is none other
than Her Highness, the Silver King. Pay your respects.”
Gilbert didn’t fully step
aside, merely shifting slightly to the side, positioning himself between Sienna
and Verota as a protective barrier against this stranger.
Sienna lifted the front of
her hood, revealing her face.
“You’ve traveled far. We
entrust you to guide us safely.”
Verota’s eyes widened in
surprise. He had not expected to hear a woman’s voice. He studied Sienna’s
face, partially hidden in the shadow of her hood.
“That’s rude.”
Gilbert’s rebuke made Verota
quickly avert his gaze.
“My apologies. I was
informed that the envoy would be a prince…”
Sienna answered.
“There’s been a change. The
envoy faithfully carries out His Majesty’s orders, no matter who they are. Does
it matter who the envoy is?”
With his eyes lowered, Verota
managed to conceal his discomfort, though inwardly he muttered, ‘A woman, of
all things.’
“Yes, of course. Our duty
is simply to escort the esteemed guests safely.”
Sienna cast her gaze beyond
Verota to the rest of his group, who stood several paces away, scattered in
conversation.
“There are more of you than
I expected.”
“We couldn’t afford to be
negligent when escorting such important guests.”
“Where is Marquis Raad? I
heard he was to join us.”
A brief flash of unease
crossed Verota’s face, but he quickly regained his composure.
“He is likely preparing to
welcome you at the rest stop. We hurried ahead so as not to keep you waiting.”
“I see. Are we leaving
now?”
“Yes, we must depart soon
if we are to reach the rest stop by nightfall.”
“Then we’ll send word to
His Majesty of our departure and leave immediately.”
“Yes, Your Highness. We
will prepare to depart right away.”
As Sienna turned to walk
away, she called out, “Sir Gilbert,” and he quickly followed behind her.
Verota watched the two walk
off before returning to his group.
Once they were out of
earshot, Sienna spoke quietly to Gilbert.
“It seems my warning from
before may have been correct.”
“Pardon?”
Sienna had subtly tested Verota.
According to Levan’s
letter, Kuhn had no plans to greet the envoy. If Verota were the official guide
sent by the Confederation, he should have responded that there was no
expectation for Marquis Raad to be present when asked. Furthermore, the notion
that Kuhn would wait at a rest stop was completely wrong. Kuhn would never send
his subordinates while remaining nearby.
“It seems these are not the
official guides.”
Gilbert’s eyes flared with
anger.
“Shall I make them all
kneel right now?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Your Highness, we have
fifteen of the Empire’s best knights.”
“If all those guides are
desert warriors, are you confident we could win? We also have administrators to
protect, so at most, we have about ten knights who can fight.”
Gilbert pressed his lips
together, unable to respond. He wanted nothing more than to suggest they return
to the ship still docked nearby.
But they couldn’t retreat
based on mere suspicion. Her Highness’s honor as the envoy of the Emperor was
at stake. No matter what happened, they had to complete the mission.
“For now, let’s proceed.”
“Your Highness, shouldn’t
we at least buy some time to prepare?”
“If we delay, they’ll
become suspicious. Their goal is not to harm me. If we don’t show any weakness,
they won’t act rashly. Tell the knights to stay alert.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Verota returned to his
group and informed them that the envoy had changed. A man wearing a purple
turban on horseback found it intriguing.
"The envoy’s a
princess? A woman, you say? She’s taller than you, isn’t she?"
"That’s not something
they’d lie about. Her voice was definitely a woman’s."
"Did you see her face?
Is she beautiful?"
"Whether the envoy is
beautiful or not doesn’t matter, does it?"
"Well, if she’s
beautiful, that’s a bonus, isn’t it?"
The man in the purple
turban asked the group for their opinion, and the others laughed, agreeing with
him.
Verota frowned. The reason
he felt uneasy about the envoy being a woman was precisely because of the man
in the purple turban.
If Sienna had understood
their conversation in the desert language, she would have immediately sensed
something was off. Verota, the supposed leader of the guide party, was speaking
respectfully to his group. The purple-turbaned man, however, treated Verota
with complete familiarity.
In reality, the man in the
purple turban, Hysilo, held the highest status in the group. Verota was
only the representative because he was fluent in the Empire’s language.
Hysilo was the son of the
Hotu tribal chief and his heir. Hysilo was popular among the warriors for his
bold personality and combat prowess, nearly matching that of a seasoned
warrior.
Though Hysilo’s arrogance
and self-centeredness were typical of someone of high rank, it wasn’t
intolerable. What concerned Verota was Hysilo’s notorious behavior around
women. Verota worried that Hysilo’s habits might jeopardize the mission now
that the envoy was a woman.
"Lord Hysilo, this is
the Imperial envoy. Please be cautious with your behavior."
Hysilo scoffed.
"You’re spouting
nonsense."
"My apologies if I offended
you. Our goal is to negotiate. It won’t benefit us to upset the envoy."
"I know. With a woman,
the negotiation will be even easier. She’ll soon realize that without us in
this endless desert of sand, she’ll starve or fall prey to the Desert Ghosts.
Outsiders are all the same. They underestimate the desert, but once they’re punished
by it, they become compliant. It’d be perfect if a small Desert Ghost
showed up."
Hysilo spoke boldly, and
the other men around him laughed loudly. Verota suppressed his rising
irritation.
‘Those Hotu bastards.’
Verota was from the Rama
tribe. Though he had temporarily allied with the Hotu tribe for this mission,
the two tribes despised each other. They often insulted each other, calling one
another "loud-mouthed fools" or "brainless brutes."
The Hotu tribe’s military
strength was overwhelming, which was why their help was needed for this
operation.
‘Of all people, why Hysilo?’
To Verota, Hysilo was the
epitome of the "brainless brute." As the son of the chief, he was
also brazenly arrogant.
Still, without Hysilo and
his warriors, they wouldn’t have been able to deal with the royal guide party
sent from the capital so cleanly. Hysilo had proven his worth, which made him
feel victorious, leaving Verota unable to voice any complaints.
"Lord Hysilo, we need
to find a way before we reach the next rest stop. It seems the Marquis of Rad
was supposed to be there."
"What?"
Hysilo’s smile vanished
instantly.
"I told them the
Marquis was waiting at the rest stop. If we arrive and he’s not there, they’ll
get suspicious."
"That bastard
Raad."
Hysilo’s face darkened, and
the surrounding men fell silent. Everyone knew of Hysilo’s intense dislike for
the Marquis of Raad.
Hysilo believed Kuhn had
ruined everything. His father should have become king, and Hysilo should have
rightfully inherited the throne afterward.
"This time, I’ll make
sure to humiliate him properly. Change course. We won’t stop at the rest
stop."
"What?"
"We’re the guides.
We’ll come up with an excuse. We never planned to go to the capital anyway."
They had intended to lead
the envoy elsewhere under the guise of being guides. Their plan was to detain
the envoy with a fabricated story of an internal conflict, using threats and
negotiations to secure the rights to the Sacred Tree branch.
"…Understood."
Verota sighed and agreed.
It was a simple plan, but at the moment, there was no other option.
Verota turned his head to
look at the Imperial envoy. They were saddling a dazzling white unicorn. At
least Hysilo wasn’t greedy for material things. If he had coveted the unicorn,
it would have been an even bigger headache.
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