Within a room draped in heavy folds of red silk, flowing down from the walls, three men were seated around the table, dimly lit with candles light.

The one positioned at the head was clad in military uniform. Man had upright back and his eyes radiated the willpower of a male in his prime.

As for the others present, they were also dressed in army outfit and took the rest of the chairs around the table.

'Let us proceed to the matters of Eastern Border then.'

Man's expression had a visible cast of annoyance as he made this announcement.

'General Tarta?'

With a bow person to the left from the leader rose from his seat and reported.

'Compared to the last week's disposition things have calmed down a little, my lord.'

'9th, 10th, 11th regiment have all encountered ambushes of various intense but persevered and have been currenly reinforced so there is no imminent danger'

General frowned.

'It's just that 8th regiment has missed the due time to make a report.'

'8th regiment?' - man in the lead had thoughtful look for a moment. -'They have been guarding the pass in Ceasefire Forest, if I remember things correclty.'

'Lord of Yellow is well informed.' - General Tarta nodded respectfully.

'Have you dispatched someone to check then?'

'Naturally, however both messengers have not returned as well.'

The other officer present in the meeting broke in a chuckle.

'Losing regiment and then some more on top of it, your battle genius have once again widened my horizons Tarta.'

General Tarta did not offer any retort but his hand moved to the handle of fine rapier hanging from his waist.

'Ease, Tarta', - man in charge waved his hand calmly.- 'What esteemed Silvester says makes sense, we trully suffered this time.'

'Then how about this, why don't you pick your famed Winged Brigade and help us out, Silvester?'

'We would be most grateful for your guidance!'

An officer who had earlier ridiculed General Tarta immediately had change of expression and stood up abruptly.

'A mere Colour dares to command Emperor's Guard? Have I missed your coronation, good lord?'

'Mm, it's not like I am ordering you, Silvester.'

'However, tell me, if you are not going to cooperate with regular army from time to time then what is the point in you being situated in my camp?'

'It has been a month or so since your men and horses have been freeloading off me, you know.'

'Wouldn't you think it's time for your people to earn their rent?'

Silvester, however, refused to give in.

'Emperor's Guard will be dispatched only under direct command of His Majesty.'

'If you have any qualms go petition the Emperor himself!'

Man tapped the table slightly.

'I might just do this, Silvester. However the timing is not right...Emperor has departed to Northern Seas to request their assistance already.'

'Still...'

Man took a pause.

'I wonder if the Empress will turn cold shoulder to me if I approach her about this matter?'

Silvester eyes widened in disbelief.

'You...the rumors were right after all!'

'And even admitting it so brazenly!'

'Admitting what?' - man stretched lazily, -'Speak openly, Silvester.'

'Ah, but be mindful please, lest you slander Her Majesty and commit High treason.'

'I'll naturally have your head right away in that very moment.'

The person who was previously addressed as leader of Winged Brigade stared at the Lord of Yellow angrily, his knuckles white and balled into fists.

General Tarta hastily moved to his commander's side, taking caution were Silvester to lose it.

However in the end Emperor's Guard captain only turned on his heels and left the room in wide strides.

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'Should I now reinforce the outpost in Ceasefire Forest, commander?'

'No need, Silvester's no fool and with Emperor absent he won't antagonize me to the bitter end.'

'...If you say so, my lord.'

Commander then took his coat from chair and stood up.

'General Tarta, I'm leaving the other matters to you. I'll be going back to the capital for the rest of the month.'

General Tarta saluted and stepped aside.

As his direct supperior was leaving the room General Tarta stood there with his head bowed, wry smile on his lips.

Marshal Sunk, Lord of Yellow, thirty sixth in this year, was truly a gifted man.

***

Seven long days has passed since the accident on the road and currently Martha couldn’t make heads or tails out of her situation.

This person who had kidnapped her and Chatty still rarely talked to them and didn’t give any clues as to what fate was awaiting girls in the future.

If she were to say that she was a prisoner that wouldn’t be quite right. Her freedom and movement weren’t actually restricted. Well, during the day, that is.

There were no ropes, no shackles, they were not searched, and even that weapon Martha had looted from the Champion’s corpse was still in her possession.

But still she had somehow felt that running was not an option. This feeling, at first vague and inexplainable, was soon proved to be on spot as Chatty, who has appeared strangely loyal to their kidnapper since the beginning, tried to escape on fourth day.

The girl had wandered deep into forest while man was absent and didn’t come back until the dark.

When the night fell the man had returned as he usually did, carrying some dead animals. He quietly glanced around, slowing his gaze on Martha and then searching with his eyes for servant girl.

He then sat down, skinned the animals and unhurriedly cooked them, while shoving some parts of it towards Martha.

Then the man stood up and dispersed into woods.

It was not even a whole hour later as man soon appeared again dragging Chatty by hair in an all reminiscent way .

Girl was not letting out a sound despite being beaten half to death. The only place spared was her face which was already quite in sorry state since that day of the ambush and has never fully recovered.

Naturally, Chatty’s turn was skipped that night.

Speaking of nights at first Martha dreaded them, trying her best not to break out in panic attack each time man would stand up and mull over the girls with his stare picking one of them.

However she soon grew strangely numb to it. Were it for accumulated stress that was not properly released all this time. Or because her body decided to shut down and endure.

But Martha really felt like she could manage through this ordeal and started to take it with somewhat indifferent attitude.

Same however could not be said about Chatty.

Each time it was Chatty’s turn to accompany the man through the night was a time Martha were rendered completely unable to sleep.

The servant girl’s huffing, loud pants and emotional moans would tore the silence and continue without breaks until the early hours of the morning.

At the start Martha felt anger and disgust towards Chatty who appeared so welcoming towards their kidnapper and so accustomed to carnal pleasures. She herself had been resisting any notions of finding comfort in night’s experiences, then why this girl could not?

However this emotion had soon subsided as Chatty, who were obviously running out of breath with her voice coarse and vocal cords almost in damaged state, as this girl still kept releasing encouraging screams hours and hours to come.

The girl was surviving too.

After realising this Martha tried to reestablish communication with Chatty on numerous occasions. She would sometimes save her own food and then offer it to the girl or would try to talk to her when man was out in the woods hunting.

However every time Martha was met with firm denial.

In fact the eyes with which Chatty were looking at the knight were burning with vivid hatred. She even tried to start a fight few times when Martha approached her.

In fact, one night when Martha was lying exhausted because of her ‘turn’ Chatty even tried to take her life.

She was stopped, in the end.

But two girls relationship at this point truly seemed irredeemable.

With a sigh Martha could only give up. Perhaps pushing all the blame for that mangled toothless face, for disfigured limbs, for crushed and distorted soul on another person who she could at least retaliate against was another way for Chatty to cope with all this.

As they moved farther into forest they have passed numerous battlefields. There were signs of combat everywhere and man took longer and longer hours trying to hunt for food. Birds and animals alike hastily left this bloody grounds while carrion-consuming vile creatures took their stead.

Sometime they would encounter living people. Some of them were clad in Empire uniforms, some of them - in Kingdom’s.

At this point the name ‘Ceasefire Forest’ truly has lost any meaning and this place had become another active war zone.

Approaching these people was prohibited. If girls followed the man quietly and soldiers didn’t take notice of them or let them pass in silence - then nothing would happen.

However if they were to cry out for help or soldiers would call on their own volition man would spring into action and kill every single one of them. Empire or Kingdom, none would be spared, lying as a headless corpse. Man’s strength had once again astonished Martha as he cut through the ranks of Paladins and Champions alike, unfettered in the slightest. At some point, she was quite sure, they have wiped a Kingdom unit commanded by general ranking officer.

Seeing this Martha abandoned any idea of reaching to these people, who were stoically fighting for their country here, and casting doom over them.

Chatty, on the other hand, quickly grew fond of this new attraction. As soon as military regiment was spotted she would run out of the woods, stark naked, sobbing and crying, hastily pointing over her back and begging for protection from ‘brave soldiers, mighty men’. Stationed on these uninhabited lands without women's warmth for a long time soldiers would immediately grow excited given Chatty’s bountiful chest, even ignoring her now ugly face and numerous other handicaps.

They would quickly assemble a rescue party, dive into forest only to never return. Then their encampment would be wiped out as well.

Could this still be called coping…? Martha didn’t know. She felt like the girl was changing, like she was falling down the road of no return.

On nights it became quite often that Chatty would push Martha aside when man would end his meal. And then proactively approach him herself. Her acting skills also grew much better and Martha couldn’t really be sure anymore if this was acting at all or certain hint of sweetness was being added into play.

And what made Martha not knowing whether to cry or laugh was the look of superiority servant girl would wear then in the morning.

Man didn’t seem particularly annoyed by Chatty behaviour and was even somewhat accepting of it, visiting Martha rarer and rarer at nights.

Knight’s treatment though didn’t get any worse as she still were getting her share of food and was equally protected from wildlife dangers as they travelled.

Like this a month passed as Martha slowly grew accustomed to this new routine and soon was once again able to enjoy meals and her sleep. Her wounds had long healed and skin regained color.

With her state recovered Martha was now able to take in her situation and started to plan for future.

It was at this point however that she found herself awake in the morning completely alone, with servant girl, man and their belongings all absent.

To the side of the knight was neatly packed animal skin with some odd food, rusty sword and firestarter kit.

Apart from this there was nothing and noone.