Walking continuously for three days had left blisters and cuts on Amara's feet. Once, her gown — a silk thing of pale beauty, smooth as a swan's wing — was now stained brown and black with the dirt and blood of the forest.
Her steps had grown slow and heavy, each one a battle against exhaustion. Her wrists were bound together by a coarse rope, the fibers biting into her skin with every movement. Braylon held the other end, his hand firm, his pace unyielding. When she faltered, he gave the rope a sharp tug.
"Keep moving," he muttered.
They moved through the trees like a master leading his slave — a leash between them, one pulling, the other dragged along in silence.
Amara's back was slumped, her eyes dull with fatigue. But then, something green slithered across the forest floor ahead. At first, it was only a blur of movement — a shifting streak among the leaves. Then it came into focus.
Her heart froze.
A scream tore from her throat as she stumbled backward.
Braylon spun around, his hand on his sword. A green snake, long enough to reach Amara's knees, was coiled in the dirt before her, its scales glistening under a shaft of sunlight, tongue flicking the air in warning.
"Do not move," Braylon said sharply.
Amara stood trembling, her body rigid, eyes wide and unblinking as the snake hissed softly — inching closer, its gaze locked on hers.
He took deliberate steps forward, his body bending slightly, eyes locked on the serpent. His hands moved with steady precision, reaching for the snake's head.
Amara's breath came in sharp bursts. Each time the snake slithered closer, hissing near her legs, she instinctively stepped back.
"Stop moving," Braylon said, his voice low and controlled.
His hand darted forward — and before the snake could strike, it was already caught. He seized it just below the head, his fingers wrapping tightly around its scales, covering its eyes and blinding its sight. The snake writhed violently in his grasp, its body coiling and twisting, but his hold was unbreakable.
Amara collapsed to her knees, gasping as though the air had suddenly left her lungs. She pressed her palms over her face, trembling.
Then, hearing the sound of movement, she looked up — only to find herself staring once again into the serpent's gleaming eyes. A shriek escaped her lips as she stumbled backward, landing hard on the ground.
Braylon crouched in front of her, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. He brought the snake's head closer to her face until she could feel the faint flick of its tongue against the air between them.
"Scared of poison…" he murmured, raising a brow, "…or of death?"
"Keep it away from me…" she whispered, her voice trembling as a tear slipped down her cheek. Her entire body quivered, frozen in place as if even the air around her had turned suffocating.
Without a word, Braylon flicked his wrist and hurled the snake far into the underbrush. It vanished into the darkness with a faint rustle, but he didn't look away—not from her. His gaze remained fixed, sharp yet unreadable, as though measuring every fragment of her reaction.
Amara squeezed her eyes shut, her brows knitting together as she exhaled shakily. Relief washed over her, but it did little to steady the storm inside her chest. Her fingers curled tightly, betraying the fear she tried so hard to suppress.
For a brief moment, silence stretched between them—thick, heavy, and unspoken.
"Keep walking. We'll reach the border soon," Braylon said at last, rising to his feet. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, as he grasped the other end of the rope binding them together.
As they walked, the dense forest slowly began to thin. The towering trees gave way to scattered patches of light, and soon the path ahead opened completely.
Amara's steps faltered.
In the distance stood the border of Durand—a massive wall of interwoven metal wires, stretching endlessly to both sides. It gleamed coldly under the sunlight, an unbreakable barrier that no one could slip through.
Her heart sank.
That was when it truly hit her.
Once she crossed that border… there would be no escape.
"Consider this your last chance," Braylon said behind her, his voice calm, almost amused. "You have until I reach the border. Do whatever you can."
He looked at her, a faint smirk playing on his lips, and loosened his end of the rope.
Amara stared at him in disbelief, her mind struggling to catch up with his words. But she didn't question it.
This was her only chance.
Without another second wasted, she turned and ran.
She ran toward the border where a knight clad in black armor stood guard beneath the harsh sunlight.
Her breath grew uneven, her legs burning, but she didn't stop.
She ran like her life depended on it.
She ran to escape.
She ran like a woman who refused to be caged.
By the time she reached the knight, her chest was heaving. Words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, broken and desperate.
"Please—listen to me—I'm Princess Amara—I've been captured—you need to send a raven to Amethyst Castle—please—"
Her eyes darted back again and again, searching for Braylon.
He was still walking.
Slow. Unhurried.
As if he had all the time in the world.
As if he wanted her to try.
"Please!" she begged, her voice cracking as she grabbed onto the knight's arm. "You have to believe me—"
The knight didn't respond.
He stood frozen, his expression unreadable, caught between confusion and hesitation.
Then, slowly, his gaze shifted past her.
Toward Braylon.
Who was now drawing closer.
Her bound hands trembled as they slid down the knight's arm. Frustration and fear surged through her.
"What are you waiting for?!" she screamed with all her strength, her voice breaking in desperation.
Her gaze darted around, searching for someone—anyone—who would act.
Two more knights stood only a few steps away.
Hope flickered.
She turned back instinctively—
Braylon.
He had slowed, bending slightly as he reached for the end of the rope he had let loose, as if he were in no hurry at all.
Amara's breath hitched.
Without thinking, she yanked the rope toward herself, gathering it into her hands, and ran.
She ran toward the other knights, her steps uneven but relentless, driven by sheer desperation.
Behind her, Braylon looked up.
And laughed.
A low, mocking sound that sent a chill down her spine.
"Please… help me…" Amara pleaded, her voice trembling as she stumbled to a stop before them. She pointed back at him, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "That man—he abducted me—"
Braylon was only a few feet away now.
"My family must be looking for me…" she continued, tears spilling down her cheeks as her voice cracked under the weight of fear. "Please… you have to help me…"
Her words hung in the air.
Fragile.
Desperate.
Waiting to be believed.
Amara slowed to a stop.
Her strength gave out as she shut her eyes, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook with each broken sob, her voice cracking under the weight of despair.
Behind her, a dark presence crept closer.
A shadow.
"Why…?" her voice trembled as she cried out, louder this time, raw and desperate. "Why is no one helping me?!"
Silence answered her.
Heavy. Suffocating.
She turned slowly.
And looked up.
Braylon stood before her, his gaze meeting hers—cold, unreadable, yet carrying a clear message.
Time's up.
Before she could speak again—
A chuckle broke through the air.
"Why are you playing with the little girl?"
Amara froze.
Her head snapped toward the voice.
It was the same knight.
The very one she had begged for help just moments ago.
He laughed lightly, as if nothing she had said mattered… as if her desperation had been nothing more than a joke.
The last thread of hope inside her snapped.
"I just wanted to see what she would do," Braylon said calmly, his gaze shifting toward the knight.
There was no hint of guilt in his voice.
Only quiet amusement.
He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it over. "Take this."
"What is it?" the knight muttered, unfolding the paper.
Before he could finish reading, the other knight beside him leaned in, his eyes scanning the contents. His expression changed instantly.
"Oh… an order paper," he said, his voice lowering with recognition. "You don't need to show it to us. You can pass freely."
He even placed a hand on Braylon's shoulder, almost respectfully.
Amara's eyes widened.
Her mind struggled to process what she was hearing.
An order paper…?
It was official.
A written command granting permission to pass through the border gates—no questions asked, no inspections required.
Her breath caught in her throat.
All this time… she had thought they would have to sneak past somehow.
She never imagined—
Her abductor had the authority to walk through openly.
Her knees gave out beneath her.
She collapsed where she stood, the strength draining from her body as the men continued talking as if nothing had happened.
"You're already a day behind with all that walking," one of the knights said casually. "Pass the gates and you'll find a wagon waiting. Take that—you'll reach within a day and a half."
"Thank you," Braylon replied.
Then, slowly, he turned his gaze toward Amara.
He stepped closer and bent down, picking up the end of the rope. With a small, almost lazy shrug of his hand, he tugged it lightly—
A silent command.
Move.
The illusion of escape had ended.
And this time…
There was no running left.
As the gates of the border slowly creaked open, the sound echoed like a final verdict.
Amara turned back.
Her eyes lingered on the dense forest behind her. For a fleeting moment, she held onto a fragile hope… that something, anything, would emerge from those shadows and take her back home.
But nothing came.
No miracle.
No rescue.
Just silence.
The illusion shattered the moment Braylon stepped across the border without hesitation. The instant his foot touched the other side, he gave the rope a slight pull—
A quiet command.
Amara's breath caught.
Her feet felt heavy as she moved forward, each step slower than the last. When she reached the line that separated everything, she stopped.
Just for a second.
Hesitation wrapped around her like chains.
Then—
She stepped across.
And in that single moment, something inside her broke.
Without a word, they continued walking.
And entered the kingdom of Tarvisium.