Chapter 5
The battle that had begun before dawn finally ended when the eastern sky grew bright. Liberte swung her sword lightly to shake off the blood, wiped the blade with the cloth tied to its hilt, and slid it back into its scabbard.
She let out a long sigh, like catching her breath, before she had the leisure to look around.
Smoke rose from the dying bonfire. The smell of half-burned wood and thick blood filled the campsite. The ground was littered with the corpses of the raiders, and Liberte frowned.
The duke approached her with a crooked smile. She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to say, and so she laughed faintly. Most people never expected a princess to wield a sword, so he probably wanted to talk about that. Of course, she had questions for him too. But now was not the time.
“Let’s save the talk until after we leave this place.”
If no report went back to the raiders’ employers, then soon someone would come to check the outcome themselves. They had to be gone before that. Thankfully, the raiders hadn’t touched the horses—they thought they could sell them for money. Liberte loosened the reins of her carriage’s horses with relief.
The traitorous guards’ horses had disappeared, but the duke’s men’s horses and Liberte’s carriage horses remained. One knight remarked how lucky it was the animals hadn’t run off.
Liberte smiled—because she had tied up well-trained warhorses she and Rosemary had ridden for years.
Rosemary brought saddles from the tent and set them on the horses. She packed a little food, water, bows, and arrows. Seeing the gear spilling from the tent, the young knights’ eyes widened, but they quickly helped, and within a short time, five riders and five horses were ready to travel.
“Lead the way.”
At Liberte’s short command, as she set fire to the tents and carriage, the duke nodded and led the party off the road. After some time, they left the main path entirely, riding swiftly into the forest.
By late afternoon, when the sun was already sinking west, they found an open clearing with a small stream nearby—perfect for camp. As they tended to wounds, they saw one young knight had a cut on his arm.
It wasn’t deep; a potion and a bandage sufficed. After treatment, the duke approached her.
“May I ask now what this was all about?”
Liberte wondered where to begin. She was still choosing her words when his next question caught her off guard.
“From your clothes, your sword, even your riding—you seem very experienced?”
That was hardly the most important issue. She tilted her head at his strange priorities, but answered anyway.
“I may not look it, but I spent much of my youth on battlefields. I even commanded a cavalry detachment. Swordsmanship and riding—those are basic skills for war. My father trained me harshly.”
She shrugged at him. Before he became emperor, her father had always fought at the front lines. From a very young age, she had followed him and learned about war.
After fifteen, she often served at his side as his most trusted adjutant, fighting at the vanguard.
“Fighting people is different from fighting monsters. To see both of you unscathed—it’s impressive.”
The young knight spoke, placing a hand over his bandaged arm. He introduced himself as Alexis, twenty-two years old, with round brown eyes and red hair. Cheerful by nature, but unlucky to be caught in such a battle his first time in the capital.
“And really, dresses aren’t very good for fighting, are they?”
The other knight, sitting in the grass, joked, seeing Liberte and Rosemary now dressed in fitted pants and shirts. His long gray hair was tied back; his name was Martin. Talkative and carefree, clearly the mood-maker of the group. Rosemary laughed at his words, and the tense air softened.
“Hey, don’t say things like that.”
At the duke’s rebuke, Liberte once again felt that odd sense of strangeness. Of all the questions he could ask—why focus on her clothes and her sword first? She stared at him. His blue earring gleamed again, not a trick of the firelight this time.
“Ahem… Well, could you at least tell us why that attack happened?”
Realizing his mistake in priorities, he coughed awkwardly. Liberte set aside her doubts for later and answered.
“Most likely, the raiders were sent by the chancellor. Killing me would be best for him, but even if not, they could at least steal the dowry of the wedding procession.”
“Come to think of it, they avoided fighting us. But against Your Highness, they attacked with all they had.”
Martin teased Alexis for still getting injured despite that, saying he should give back his knighthood. Alexis sulked, puffing his cheeks, while Liberte thought silently.
The raiders probably decided it was easier to kill a woman than to risk fighting trained knights and making the North their enemy.
She recalled the chancellor’s face turning pale when she had ordered all the luxurious wagons returned to the treasury.
Likely the bandit leader had been shocked too, expecting treasure-laden carriages but finding almost nothing. Hence, his order not to harm the horses—they were the last valuables. At least, that had been to her benefit.
“So you really left behind all those wagons…”
“Yes, that’s how it turned out. Sadly, even the guards were all bought off. I’m used to camping, so I was prepared to abandon tents and carriages at the first sign of trouble.”
She smirked at Martin. He had been the one complaining last night that even their small convoy was too big. Martin quickly looked away, pretending innocence, before being forced to bow his head and mutter apologies.
“At first I thought perhaps you, too, had been bribed by the chancellor…”
Liberte folded her arms and looked at each man in turn. One waved his hands, denying it. Another made light of it with jokes. And one stood silently, frowning deeply, eyes fixed on her.
“But if you had been bribed, you wouldn’t have fought at our side and risked injury. Unless you meant to lower my guard and strike at the end… but honestly, I doubt you’d succeed. Well—except perhaps against you.”
She glanced at the silent man—the duke—remembering his powerful greatsword. Truly, his swordsmanship had been formidable. She tapped her own sword at her waist as if to make a point.
Rosemary smiled brightly at her, and the knights stared in shock at the sight of their princess so casually boasting. Only one man looked grave.
She had no intention of mentioning that in her father’s wars, she had once been called the incarnation of the Goddess of War.
“Now then, it’s my turn to ask.”
That night, after everyone finished preparing camp and shared dry bread and jerky by the fire, Liberte finally spoke again.
“Following the main road will take over three months. Even riding hard, more than two. How do you intend to travel now?”
Her eyes stayed on the fire. The duke stroked his beard. His blue earring flickered—not just from firelight.
“On the main road, we will certainly be attacked again.”
He spoke half to himself. Liberte turned to him sharply, watching the glow of the earring. With a sigh, rubbing his face, he went on.
“Five days through the forest will bring us to a great cliff. There… we have hidden an airship.”
An airship. A great vessel that could fly in the sky.
“Oh… so the North has such technology?”
She sounded intrigued, but he shook his head. Not so convenient, he said. It was not free travel, but something bound by a certain “power.” He would not explain further. It could only go to specific places.
“I have no right to explain more.”
He closed his mouth firmly. Still, if it shortened the journey to the North from months to about a week, it was welcome news. She could investigate details later. And when he asked if she had no other questions, Liberte did not hesitate.
“Then tell me—what is your real name?”
The man who had until now called himself “the Duke” froze, mouth hanging open, staring at her in silence.
