*Ten minutes ago*

“They are catching up with us,” Trayan called out, raising his hand from the ground and his eyes towards his duchess. “I can try to hold them back with my men, but…”

“No, I forbid you from doing that,” Camila, the heir apparent of the dukedom, shook her concealed face. “I cannot allow my loyal men to bleed any further for this farce.”

“My lady…” Trayan squinted his eyes and tightened his fists before lowering his head in a plea. “At least the horse, take it and run before they catch our trail!”

Camila looked down at the masked face of her loyal servant.

“That’s enough. Not even that bastard will dare to have his henchmen hurt me. But you, guys,” the duchess-apparent looked around at the small group of her loyalists. “You guys are a whole different topic. In fact,” Camila smiled lightly, even though the cloth tightly wrapped around the bottom half of her face perfectly concealed it, “If I let him kill you off, that’s what I will count for a loss.”

“…”

Trayan lowered his head even further.

It already took great dedication for an ancestral noble to discard his colors in service of another house.

But it was Camila’s high noble lineage that saved him when he was at his lowest. And to discard his lady in the face of danger would go against every value that his ancient lineage made Trayan hold close to his heart.

“In that case…” Trayan took a sharp breath and brought his hand to his face, “I shall remove my mask. This way, they won’t dare to hurt you, my lady, with me for a witness,” Trayan announced as he stood up, already trying to untangle the knot that held the mask on his face.

“Stop it,” Camila scolded her loyal servant… but with an extremely soft look to her eyes. “He won’t move against you if all that he has is a suspicion. Reveal yourself to that bastard’s men, and he will never stop trying to ruin you!”

Such was the vicious nature of the bastard who gave in to his ambitions and went all in on an attempt to usurp Camila’s heritage.

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A son of a whore brought home by a young lady’s father after one of his many, bloody campaigns that reaffirmed the position of their house amidst the other four crown dukedoms.

A rank Robert, Camila’s late father, worked hard his entire life to secure. And a rank they would instantly lose if a half-blood spawn of a peasant were to remove Camila from the equation and inherit the dukedom.

“But my lady…” Trayan tried to protest again, already opening his mouth to…

A high-pitched whistle cut through the air, forcing everyone’s eyes in the direction it came from.

“They are close, too close…” Trayan rushed up to his feet, arming himself with a simple, crude sword that befitted his masked persona and reaching out with his arm to force Camila to retreat under his cover.

“Trayan, I’m sorry,” Camila whispered while resting her hand on the man’s shoulder.

Then, her eyes lit up, as the young lady of the Bar house invoked her ducal authority.

“Take your men and return to your fief while avoiding my pursuers.”

Camila didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t try to scream, but she didn’t try to whisper either.

And yet, the movements of her throat and mouth, even the air that passed through to produce sound… Failed to complete its task.

Not a single tone came out of the young duchess-to-be mouth… And yet, those words etched themselves into reality, turning into an established fact.

“M-my… L-lady…” Trayan, with all the strength of a fourty-years old veteran of many battles, tried to resist the compulsion of the ducal authority… But, no matter how much effort he put into stopping his body, in the end, his muscles relaxed, the shine in his eyes decreased…

And his will bent to the supreme authority of his overlord.

“Sanga, retreat!”

Following a short, sharp shout with three different tones of quick whistle, Trayan turned around and sank into the woods.

The bulk of Camila’s masked escorts took a moment… but followed the order of their respective overlord, running away into the trees.

“Now then…” Camila sighed and raised her eyes to the only two of her retainers left.

The two slaves she raised to freedom and accepted into her service.

Two men who would first die and than abandon her. And as commoners, Camila’s authority was spread too thin to impose direct commands upon the two of them.

“I believe it will be futile of me to try forcing or convincing you,” she muttered as she raised her eyes to her two friends. “Still, if you wish to save your life and serve me in the future,” Camila raised her hand towards the trees.

Despite how close this part of the forest was to the main tract, it wasn’t just an everyday, modern forest.

It was one of the few relics of ancient nature, long preceding the times of ducal, royal, or even imperial houses of the continent. As such, a mere few steps to the side were enough to bring one from a relatively open part of the woods to an absolute thicket of mangled bushes and overgrown, ancient trees.

Just a few steps and one could disappear into the wilderness that no human could ever explore and all those who dared to died.

Which made it a perfect hiding spot from the showdown that was soon to ensue, given how Camila could already hear the hurried footsteps of her pursuers.