After the first day of the summit ca to a close, Cian retired to his guest mansion and changed his formal summit attire for the more typical noble garb to disguise himself. Though he couldn't help but fret over Drayce's sudden departure from the conference, he held firm in his belief that the formidable king would handle the matter swiftly.
It was almost certainly related to his sister, the only person capable of diverting that king's attention from even the most critical affairs.
"Your Highness, everything is in order. We're prepared to leave through the palace's rear passages. Your cousin has already ensured a clear path for our departure," Eliot, Cian's guardian knight, inford.
Two freshly grood Othinian horses stood ready behind the guest mansion, waiting for them. As Cian departed the palace, he was accompanied by his guardian knight, Eliot Fletcher, the son of King Arn's own guardian knight, Sir Berolt Fletcher. Eliot bore a striking resemblance to his father, possessing the sa tall, robust fra, short black hair, and piercing light blue eyes.
His appearance clearly showed his lineage of belonging as belonging from the family of knights.
The pair rode through the city, making their way towards its outskirts, where a secret ssenger awaited them with crucial information regarding the hidden storage sites for banned herbs and the locations of plantation.
Cian and Eliot eventually halted at the base of a mountain that featured a vast, desolate expanse covered in knee-high dried grass. Nurous tall boulders were scattered around, offering ample cover for anyone seeking concealnt.
"He should arrive shortly," Eliot assured Cian.
Cian nodded in agreent and continued to survey the area, a place he had often visited as a child. In his early years, when he accompanied his mother, Queen Niobe on trips to Othinia, his older maternal cousins would take him on explorations, and this particular spot held special mories for them. It was here, on the vast expanse near the cliff, that they used to revel in the joy of flying kites.
'I wonder if anyone still frequents this place,' Cian mused. 'It appears rather deserted now.'
Eliot noticed his master lost in thought and inquired, "Is sothing on your mind, Your Highness?"
"Just reminiscing about old mories," Cian replied with a wistful smile. "While we wait for him to arrive, let's take a stroll around."
Cian took a step forward, and Eliot followed closely, his senses tuned in for any potential threats. As they traversed the area dotted with scattered boulders, Cian's gaze wandered to the distant opposite side. To his surprise, he heard the sound of laughter and cheerful voices.
Few young children and young won were playing in the vicinity, attempting to fly kites. Their attire marked them as mbers of noble families. As Cian moved a little forward, he could discern their conversations.
"We're all going to fly kites today. Let's see whose kite soars the highest."
"Mine will. I'll outfly all of yours and send it soaring beyond your reach."
"I'm flying the kite today," one of the children chid in. "Sister, you have to help . Huh? Where's my elder sister?"
"She's probably wandering about, as usual. Allow to assist you instead."
They engaged in good-natured banter and enjoyed themselves while preparing to launch their kites.
Just as Cian and Eliot both sensed a subtle movent to their right, they instinctively tightened their grips on their sword handles and turned their attention in that direction. Their eyes fell upon a young woman at a distance, lost in her own world, walking though the field, with each step accompanied by a faint tinkling sound from the accessories she wore.
It was this subtle sound that had initially drawn their attention.
"It appears to be soone from that group," Eliot observed, choosing to keep his sword sheathed. Cian followed suit and focused his gaze on the young woman.
In the vast field, bathed in the radiant golden light of the sun, she stood out like a divine presence. Her attire followed the traditional Othinian style, consisting of a graceful peach-colored top and a long skirt that almost grazed the ground. Delicate jewelry adorned her head, tracing the border of her hair crown and adorning her neck.
However, what truly captured Cian's attention were the colorful silk thread bangles gracing her delicate wrists.
In her hands, she held a windmill that appeared to be of her own creation, crafted from long dried leaves securely fastened to a wooden stick using a sharp, dried spike. Her long, deep brown hair frad her face, creating an air of mystery about her. Cian was montarily tempted to reach out and brush her hair aside to reveal her visage more clearly.
His gaze traveled down to her slender waist, partly visible through the gap between her top and skirt. Although a sheer scarf draped over her shoulder and flowed around her skirt veiled so of it, there was little left to his imagination.
Never before had Cian found himself so entranced by a woman, unable to tear his gaze away from her.
Eliot didn't miss the change in Cian's deanor and discreetly averted his gaze from the captivating woman, his attention shifting to the task at hand. He scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of the person they were awaiting, leaving Cian to appreciate the woman's beauty undisturbed. It was the first ti Eliot had ever witnessed Cian in such a state.
"Sister, my kite..." the young boy's lancholic cry reached Cian's ears, followed by more words that were drowned out as Eliot spoke.
"Your Highness, it appears he has arrived," Eliot remarked, spotting the approaching figure threading his way between two small boulders.
Cian swiftly regained his composure, his countenance returning to its customary calm and collected state. He turned around to go back to the business for what he was there for, leaving the thought of that young woman behind as if it ant nothing.
Together, they walked back to their previous concealed position behind the boulders. The newcor bowed respectfully before Cian and greeted, "Your Highness."
Eliot inquired, "What information have you brought?" as he accepted a piece of paper from the man, who proceeded to explain their findings.
After listening attentively for a while, Eliot handed the man a pouch of silver coins and dismissed him. Once the informant had disappeared from view, Eliot addressed Cian, "Your Highness, please remain here. I'll ensure that no one has noticed him or followed him."
Cian nodded as he watched Eliot hurried off in the direction the informant had departed. The faint, distant voices of those flying kites reached his ears, but now, concealed behind the boulders, he could no longer see them.
He decided to get out and see what was going on. However, just as he turned to depart, a figure rushed towards him with lightning speed from other side of the boulder, colliding with him and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The collision occurred so quickly that Cian had no ti to steady himself. All he knew he heard trickling sound of the jewellery before the collision.
He found himself entangled with a soft and delicate body, and as he looked upon the person, rather than appearing flustered, she seed poised to get back on her feet. Her long hair cascaded over his face, enveloping him in a sweet musky fragrance. Without sparing him a glance, she appeared focused on the sky and made her hasty departure, leaving behind parting words.
"Apologies, but I am in a hurry."
Cian, still on the ground, watched her retreat, her hands diligently lifting her skirt to facilitate her rapid escape. It dawned on him that this was the sa young woman he had noticed with the windmill. He remained lying on the ground and closed his eyes, attempting to summon a ntal image of her face. He recalled the mont when she had been trying to stand up.
Her initial look of bewildernt had been replaced by one of urgency, their eyes eting for a fleeting mont before she stood up. In that brief instant, he had glimpsed a pair of stunning brown eyes that sparkled like stars in the broad daylight.
A faint smile graced Cian's lips as he rose to his feet, his gaze following the young woman as she sprinted in pursuit of sothing he now recognized as a kite. He stepped out from behind the boulders and watched that group at a distance, cheering for this young woman.
The loudest cheers ca from the young boy who had earlier called for his sister's assistance. "Sister, you're the best! I know you can catch it!"
Cian was engrossed in watching her exert herself across the vast field. She halted midway, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but her sharp eyes showed her determination. Despite the hindrance of her long dress, she made a dash toward a massive boulder comprised of sturdy rocks and began climbing it which seed easier for her as if she was used to it.
She hurried towards the top and caught the string of that kite.
A resounding cheer erupted from the group, and they rushed to congratulate her.
Eliot, who had observed the entire scene, was equally impressed and approached Cian. "Your Highness, the path is clear. Today, we can proceed to the designated hideout where your cousin's n are waiting."
Cian nodded and departed with Eliot, sparing one last glance at the remarkable woman, a gentle smile lingering on his lips.
As they mounted their horses, Cian let out a slight groan, catching Eliot's concern.
"Your Highness, have you injured your hand?"
"It's nothing serious," Cian replied, attempting to soothe the sudden pain in his wrist with his thumb.
He hadn't even realized he was hurt initially, but now the mory resurfaced. When he fell, the woman had inadvertently grasped his hand, and when she tumbled, his hand had been pressed against the sharp rock on the ground, causing it to hurt.
Ignoring the pain, he rode towards their destination, letting the image of that young woman with a windmill to disappear at the back of his head.
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