Chapter 5. Don’t Avoid My Gaze
Otto, the vice-captain of the Iorenti Royal Guard, saluted lightly upon Jer’s return.
“You’ve worked hard.”
“You’re the one who’s worked hard. But… why are there only this many? What about the others?”
Jer’s face darkened as he looked around to assess the situation. Many of the prisoners they managed to rescue were injured. As their comrades returned alive, those who had been waiting rushed to provide emergency care.
“Many of them were scattered during yesterday’s Imperial Army search and couldn’t regroup.”
“This time, we took heavy losses too.”
“Yes. The captain said we should return after completing this rescue mission.”
“We probably should. Everyone’s too exhausted. What about the Imperial Army? Last I heard from the captain, they continued their advance.”
“Yes. They’re likely to leave Mount Tarrens by tonight.”
“That’s why the captain was in a hurry. We must return to the palace quickly and prepare for an attack.”
Captain Jer gently patted Otto’s shoulder.
“But why are there only twenty-nine of them?”
“The princess will be here soon.”
Jer replied calmly, recalling the twenty-nine people who had returned, including the princess.
“No, I mean excluding the princess. We had thirty of our own prisoners. Only twenty-nine have come back.”
“No, we only had twenty-nine.”
“No, sir. We checked this morning—there were thirty prisoners tied to the stakes.”
“But when I checked before being tied up myself, there were only twenty-nine.”
“Then who’s the extra one?”
It was as if Jer had swallowed a chunk of ice—his mind went blank.
“Vice-captain Otto!”
Jer and Otto turned their heads at the sudden shout.
“Something’s wrong with the captain.”
“What do you mean?”
“No, it’s that prisoner. They’re… touching the captain. With their hands.”
Jer rushed to the edge of the hill and raised his binoculars. Under the moonlight, golden hair fluttered clearly into view—an impudent prisoner laying hands on a member of the royal family. A deep groan escaped Jer’s throat.
His captain—and the princess of Iorenti—had become the thirtieth prisoner.
Because of a false thirtieth who had infiltrated their ranks.
In the Supreme Commander’s tent, the warm glow of the lantern cast a soft light.
Aaron let out a sigh, and the flame flickered wildly.
The tent was cozy and warm, but Aaron’s sharp gaze cut through it like a blade.
“A woman, huh.”
Sinking into his chair, his tired body heavy with fatigue, Aaron held his hands out to the light. The hand that had gripped the prisoner’s wrist was faintly stained with a blood-like hue, glowing in the lamplight.
He pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and wiped his hand while staring at the woman in front of him.
“No wonder. Her wrist was slender, and her frame small.”
To think it was this tiny woman who had led elite troops in ten straight days of ambushes and held back the Imperial Army.
It was so unexpected that Aaron couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
“I really got blindsided.”
The prisoner Aaron had worked so hard to capture sat bound to a pillar in his tent.
Leaning weakly against the post, she let out a faint breath. Aaron’s gray eyes followed the delicate golden strands of her hair that shimmered in the moonlight.
“You really know how to surprise people.”
Aaron thought back over the elaborate operation they’d carried out just to catch her.
They had scoured Mount Tarrens last night, used bait, and tied it in a conspicuous place.
While his aide, Colin, impersonated the commander and led the army toward the capital, Aaron had slipped in among the prisoners, tied to a stake like the rest.
As he endured the burning sun like the others, he fixated on a flickering black robe and mask—
The smile behind the mask, those lake-like blue eyes.
That person who had jumped off a cliff after taking a bullet from him.
Compared to the thirst of missing that one target, going without water was nothing.
And after all that—
The one he finally caught turned out to be a woman.
Aaron tilted his head slightly, resting his chin on one hand.
“What else are you hiding?”
“What’s your name? Your age?”
“…”
“Affiliation?”
“…”
“Rank?”
“…”
The woman just stared at him with cold eyes, lips sealed tight despite the barrage of questions.
The red lamplight flickered in her blue eyes. Aaron stared back, consumed by a thirst as if his body might evaporate.
“Could you be Iorenti’s Saintess? Received a divine revelation to save your nation?”
Even that sarcastic jab didn’t provoke a reaction. Only her long, golden lashes fluttered faintly, alive with defiance.
“So, you have no intention of speaking.”
Aaron picked up a bottle of brandy from the table and poured it into a glass.
The amber liquid gleamed seductively in the light.
Her hair reminded him of it.
“Well, let’s leave that for now. There’s something more urgent.”
As he sipped the brandy, his steel-gray eyes never left her.
The drink slid past his lips like her hair, and his thirst eased slightly—but curiosity deepened.
Those rebellious eyes—
What would they look like once broken?
“But let me ask one thing first.”
His voice merged with the gentle pouring of the drink.
“When you watched our army passing by yesterday, hiding in the shadows…”
He swirled the glass, his movements lazy like a hunter at rest, but his eyes still sharp.
“What were you thinking? Laughing at how easily we were being played? Or mocking us for being foolish?”
Her lips parted slightly as if to answer, then closed again.
A flash of light glinted off her trembling red lips.
Aaron smirked crookedly.
“What? You don’t even want to answer that?”
He downed the drink and poured another glass, raising it toward her.
“Then how about a drink?”
She turned away, lips sealed tight. Her golden hair swayed with the motion.
Her long lashes trembled—an unmistakable sign that she wanted nothing to do with him.
“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
She even shut her eyes, as if rejecting him more completely. The silence was more provocative than any words.
Aaron stood, gripping the bottle tightly.
“You don’t act like a prisoner. Don’t you realize your situation?”
Step by step, he approached her, and she opened her eyes in alarm.
“Ah!”
She gasped. Aaron’s shadow loomed over her.
She tried to back away, but the pillar stopped her.
As she struggled, Aaron knelt to meet her gaze.
When she tried to turn away, he grabbed her chin and pulled her to face him.
“Don’t look away. When I can’t see your eyes, I keep remembering that moment.”
The moment she’d mocked him and vanished with a smile.
The moment he was sure he had her, only to be left clutching nothing but a trace of blue.
“When you jumped off that cliff—it drives me insane.”
He couldn’t let her escape again. Couldn’t let her vanish from his sight again.
With a gaze that sought to reclaim that moment, Aaron warned coldly:
“Don’t drive me crazy.”
His words, low and chilling, brushed against her like a threat.
She realized she could no longer ignore him.
“Fine. Step back.”
Though anxiety trembled in her eyes, she met his gaze.
Aaron smiled in satisfaction and let go of her chin.
“Good girl. Want a drink now?”
“No need.”
“You’ll regret it.”
“I’d regret it more if I drank it.”
“If we do it without the drink, it might hurt a little.”
Her eyes widened in horror. So he wasn’t going to spare her. After all—
“Just kill me.”
At her words, Aaron let out a small chuckle.
“Should I?”
His eyes crinkled gently, but there was no warmth.
That gaze, like thick moonlight, slid down to her neck.
“It’s not hard to kill you, but…”
Her neck was slender and delicate, like it would snap with one squeeze.
Her jaw, lips, nose, and eyes—all soft and fragile.
Aaron gave a pleasant smile again.
“Can I really? After all the trouble I went through to catch you?”
“That’s your problem. I’d rather die than suffer as a prisoner. Hurry up and kill me.”
Aaron ignored her sharp words and grabbed her left arm.
Her expression turned fiercer—how dare he touch a royal?
“How dare you? Do you know who I am?”
Aaron’s smile vanished in an instant.
“And who are you?”
Realizing her mistake, the woman clamped her mouth shut again.
His icy tone suffocated her.
She could never reveal her identity to the enemy.
She turned her head, fleeing from his freezing stare.
“Who are you to say ‘how dare’ to the Supreme Commander?”
Despite his question, she remained silent.
The cold, low voice made her dizzy and breathless.
“If you’re not going to answer, just sit still. There’s not much time left anyway.”
Aaron grabbed her arm and tore her sleeve.
He ripped off the blood-clotted cloth, revealing a deep red wound underneath.
“Let go.”
Ignoring her protests, Aaron lifted the brandy bottle and slowly poured it over the wound.
The alcohol soaked the cut and overflowed.
“Ah!”
Her eyes wavered like a crashing wave.
The pain tore through her entire body, transmitted through Aaron’s hand gripping her arm.
“I told you—it’d be easier if you had a drink.”
His gaze grew darker as he stared at the wound.
