Lory stood at the edge of the deck, her gaze fixed on the departing vessel as it drifted deeper into the open sea. The great ship grew smaller with each passing moment, its silhouette slowly dissolving into the vast horizon until it became nothing more than a distant shadow.
A quiet breath escaped her lips. If all went well, the King's Men would intercept it soon. But relief, as always, was short-lived. Behind her, the air shifted.
Lory caught the faintest murmur at first, so quiet it was almost lost to the air. Then it swelled, spreading like ripples disturbed by an unseen force. Voices sharpened, trembling as though fine cracks were splintering through glass. Mouths fell open; eyes bulged in naked disbelief, as if they might burst from their sockets.
Then, at last, someone forced the words out through clenched teeth.
"P-Princess… Lorient…?"
The name struck the crowd like a boulder cast into still water, sending shockwaves in every direction.
"H-How… how is she still alive?!"
