Fina's cheeks glowed like she'd swallowed a sunrise. She clasped her hands to her chest, eyes sparkling with pure, unfiltered *destiny*.
"He's the one," she whispered, voice trembling with excitement. "My fated soulmate. That's why this whole escort quest is a cover—to finally meet the black-haired hero. Keeping the client secret? Total status move."
She dipped her head in a graceful bow. "Sorry for the cloak-and-dagger. My position demands it."
"No sweat," I said, jerking a thumb toward the driver's seat. "With *that guy* up front, we're golden."
Fina froze. "--! You... noticed?"
I smirked and flicked my gaze to the driver: tall, willowy, upper face hidden behind a sleek black mask. The kind that screamed "elite assassin chic."
"Driver's packing A-rank heat—maybe S," I said casually. "One swing of *her* sword, and every dojo in the kingdom IDs the style. Boom—your master's cover blown. That's why we're the meat shields, right? Emergencies only."
Fina's eyes narrowed for a split second, assassin-sharp. Then she exhaled, shoulders slumping like a deflating balloon.
"I heard you were D-rank," she muttered. "Turns out 'unreliable' is an understatement."
"Hey, I'm just *observant*," I protested. "Still a D-rank slacker at heart."
She rubbed her temples. "Fine. Yes—she's my bodyguard. Nothing personal against you adventurers. Sorry."
Her face darkened with genuine guilt. I waved it off and pivoted—*hard*.
"Speaking of personal... spill on this 'soulmate' thing. Black hair's rare. Color me curious."
*Truth: I just wanted to stay in this plush carriage prison. Adventurer cart? Stuffy sardine tin. This? Cloud-nine velvet.*
"You *really* wanna hear?!" Fina's gloom vanished. She scooted forward until her knees bumped mine, breath hot and minty. The fragile princess vibe? *Poof.* Gone. "Okay, it's sacred, but... black-hair solidarity!"
She launched.
"Six years old—bandits—*bam!* Masked black-haired boy swoops in—"
Three. Freaking. Hours.
Hour one: Cute. Heroic kid, epic rescue, marriage vow under cherry blossoms.
Hour two: My soul left my body. I became a nodding corpse: "*Hai. Hai. Sugoi.*"
Hour three: Escape attempts crushed. "BEST PART!" she'd shriek, yanking me back. Outside, the others napped by campfires. Jerks.
"--And *that's* why the black-haired hero is *him*!" she finished, triumphant. "He promised to become a Hero. With a capital H!"
**TL;DR:** Masked kid saved her. Ring gift. Future husband. Scar "proof." Done.
"But... mask," I wheezed. "How do you *know*?"
"Easy! He left a *landmark scar*." She blushed crimson. "T-Tell you? No way! Too embarrassing!"
*I have scars. Everywhere. Clothes hide 'em. Bullet dodged.*
The driver poked her head in. "Lady Fina. Camping here tonight. Dinner?"
Fina blinked at the window—*night already?* "Eek! I yapped too much..."
*Freedom!* I bolted upright. "Welp, time to—"
"Dinner together!" Fina beamed. "As thanks! We have *so* much left!"
My brain screamed *NO.* My stomach? Traitor.
"Pass," I lied. "Gotta... adventurer stuff."
Her face fell. "Aww. I prepped *luxury*—Hashiru Yoroi-dori steak. Juicy A-rank bird. Melts. In. Your. Mouth."
*Gulp.* I'd slain one once. Divine. *No. Must. Resist.*
"...Dragon egg soup too," she added, innocent as sin. "But if you're *sure*—"
I blurted. "Count me in."
*Not* for the food. Nope. Just... more hero gossip. Totally.
*My mouth watered so hard I nearly drooled on the caravan.*