Then the oldest of the three let out a short breath.
"Sothing might’ve stirred their territory. Forced them out and might have drove them this way."
Alaric glanced at him, quietly, listening to all of this with mild interest.
The guard t his gaze briefly, then looked away.
"But whatever it was... must’ve been worse."
The other one, sitting beside him, crossed his arms, leaned back a little and spoke with a grunt.
"But who could’ve done that? There aren’t any strong beasts in the region. Not normally."
"Maybe soone from deeper in the woods, could have co here. Sothing stronger." The last guard chid in.
The other guard scoffed. "That’s not possible. Beasts that live in the deep don’t leave their territory. They’ve got no reason to."
He looked to the others for support.
"And even if one had, the hunters working at the borders would’ve seen signs. Soone would’ve reported it."
The last guard turned to him slowly, calm.
"Maybe it just ca recently."
The carriage creaked slightly as it moved, wheels biting the forest path.
Silence hung for a second.
Then the oldest of the three, the one with the graying beard, stroked his chin.
"...That might be the case."
He didn’t sound convinced.
Just... resigned.
While the guards spoke in low voices, trading theories and half-guesses, Alaric’s gaze drifted to the girl beside him.
Iris sat still.
Too still.
Her fingers twitched once on her lap.
Then again.
Subtle flinches in her shoulders, the slight shudder in her breath.
Her eyes weren’t focused on anything. Just staring out the window, but not seeing.
Alaric noticed the tension in her limbs.
Like sothing coiled beneath her skin.
Maybe it was the fight.
The way the beasts had lunged.
The way Renard’s guards had butchered them like livestock.
It wasn’t strange—
For soone like her.
A normal girl, dragged into sothing far from normal.
Alaric had seen worse.
Had done worse.
n, animals, didn’t matter. Death was death.
But for her?
This was probably the first ti she’d watched lives end so fast, with so little aning.
He shifted slightly and was about to say sothing. Or maybe just reach out again.
Then the carriage jolted to a stop.
The reins outside snapped taut.
Silence.
Then—
Grr!
Low growls echoed in the distance.
But enough to make the horses fidget.
Alaric glanced out the narrow slit of a window.
Renard’s door creaked open.
He stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of his coat, expression unreadable.
The four guards flanked him instantly.
Weapons already drawn.
Renard stepped forward, boots crunching over dried leaves and soft dirt.
He narrowed his eyes at the trees ahead, lips tugged into a faint grin.
"Is this the place?" he asked.
One of his guards stepped beside him and shook his head.
"No, young master. That clearing’s still a bit ahead."
Renard clicked his tongue, thoughtful, then turned slightly to the man standing a step behind him.
"You sensed that too?"
The man gave a silent nod.
That was all Renard needed.
He turned back toward the carriages and barked, "Have the estate dogs hold position."
"You lot. Guard the carriages. Don’t move unless sothing forces you to."
The Glimor n exchanged quick glances but didn’t argue.
They weren’t his n, but rank spoke louder than titles on the field.
"Yes, milord," the older one answered, nodding.
With that, Renard and his four guards moved, disappearing into the woods without hesitation.
The Glimor guards spread out, doing what they were told. Two took posts at the front of the convoy. The others moved toward the back.
Alaric saw and heard their exchange.
Then, he turned to the girl beside him.
Her shoulders were still tense.
Then he reached out, gently but firmly, and turned her face toward him.
"Iris."
She blinked, startled.
His voice was low, steady.
"Do you really want to accept this life?"
She froze.
Her eyes darted to the side, then dropped.
"I-I..." she stamred, voice barely a whisper.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, trembling.
He didn’t let go.
Didn’t let her look away.
Alaric tilted her chin back up, made her et his eyes.
"I’m asking again," he said, firr now. "Would you really choose this?"
She didn’t answer right away.
And he didn’t wait.
"If I were you... I’d rather die."
Iris’s breath caught. Her eyes widened just a little.
Then she looked down again.
"I’m afraid..." she said quietly. "I don’t want to die. I want to live."
Her voice cracked at the edges.
"...But—"
Then.
She looked back up.
"But I don’t want to live like this," she said.
Then she turned her head away again, her voice softer now.
"But there’s no other choice, is there?"
Alaric let out a slow breath, then stood.
His voice ca out quiet, but there was no doubt in it.
"No one’s coming to save us."
He looked down at her, expression unreadable.
"And maybe they didn’t give us a choice. But that doesn’t an we can’t make one."
Iris blinked up at him.
Then, without another word, he leaned over and slid the window open, quietly and carefully. The hinges creaked softly.
Cool air rushed in.
He stretched out his hand toward her.
Her eyes widened.
"...Are you serious?"
But his gaze didn’t waver.
"This might be the only chance we get."
Iris stared at his hand.
Her thoughts ran wild.
What if Renard caught them?
What if they got lost in the woods and those beasts found them first?
What if they died before even making it out?
But—
What if they didn’t?
What if they ran and no one followed?
What if they changed their nas, their lives, escaped the nobles, the chains?
What if they really got away? Really beca free? Free from those lecherous nobles?
This was possible.
Right?
Her fingers twitched.
And then without hesitation, she grabbed his hand.
Firm and steady.
And stood up.
Even if we’re caught, she thought, what difference would it make?
Her fate had already been decided the mont that man pointed at her.
But if there was even a sliver of a path out—
She wasn’t letting it pass.
Then, they didn’t say a word.
Just slipped out the window, feet hitting the dirt quietly.
And then they ran away.
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