Chapter 6
Eliana felt sick to her stomach.
Bron had deceived her.
But since when?
It had been more than two years since Bron had arrived at Helio Monastery as a novice monk. He had first told her about Serapiano Monastery the previous summer. Had he planned all of this from the very beginning? Was that why he had been so friendly, always telling her she could come to him whenever she needed help?
“What about the letter of recommendation…? The one you wrote for me?”
At her question, Bron furrowed his brow, then put on an expression of sincere pity.
“Oh, my lady. That? Naturally, I just scribbled it together. It had to look convincing enough to avoid suspicion. And a monastery that welcomes anyone with open arms? Where would you find such a place these days?”
He shook his head.
“Still, I honestly didn’t think you’d fall for it. You’re the daughter of Marquis Crowd, after all. I never imagined you’d be this naïve… this easy.”
Eliana bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
Looking back, there had been warning signs everywhere.
A mere novice monk had written her recommendation letter, and now that she thought about it, the wording had been surprisingly crude. The coachman who had volunteered directions to the town square before she even asked. And the bright red anemone that had been handed to her as though it had been prepared in advance among all those withered flowers.
There had been a reason her escape had seemed so unbelievably easy.
“Bron… why are you doing this to me? If you’re planning to demand a ransom from my father—”
“No, no.”
He cut her off as he stepped toward her threateningly.
“We don’t do filthy work like blackmailing people for money, my lady. We’re merchants.”
He leaned down and whispered into her ear.
“We trade… in people.”
His chilling voice stole the air from her lungs.
Only then did the full reality of her situation sink in.
A terror unlike anything she had ever known washed over her, and tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.
“P-Please… save me. I’ll give you anything. Please let me go. I… I haven’t…”
“Ha! You’re a funny one.”
Bron let out a mocking snort.
“And what exactly can you give me? Nothing. Didn’t you tell me yourself that no one would care whether you lived or died? Those were your own words.”
At that, Eliana broke down completely.
She had often confided in Bron whenever life became unbearable. She had told him about Cecilia’s cruel bullying, her father’s indifference, and the prison-like life she had been forced to endure without knowing why. More than once, she had spoken to him with tears in her eyes.
Never once imagining that he was such a monster.
“Now then, my lady. That’s enough chatting.”
Bron approached with an expression of utter boredom and stuffed the gag back into her mouth. Then, with practiced hands, he tightened the loosened ropes around her wrists and ankles.
Eliana struggled until the skin on her hands and feet was rubbed raw, but Bron’s brute strength made her resistance meaningless.
After thrashing about until every ounce of strength had left her body, she lay limply on the floor.
Then, with the creak of a door, an impatient woman’s voice pierced the silence.
“Hurry up and get everything ready. We don’t have much time.”
With great effort, Eliana lifted her head toward the voice.
It was the innkeeper—the very woman who had shown her to her room.
Beyond the open door she could see the bed where she had been sitting.
She had never imagined that behind the oversized wardrobe, so oddly placed in that tiny room, there was a hidden chamber like this.
Fury and despair burst from her in a muffled scream.
“Oh my goodness! You startled me! Why does she still have so much energy? Shouldn’t we give her more of the drug? What if someone notices?”
The woman looked Eliana over from head to toe.
“If we drug her any more, she’ll be too limp. Customers don’t like that. They won’t pay as much.”
Bron clicked his tongue irritably.
“Once we make a fortune off this one, we won’t be staying here anyway. Even if she’s treated like unwanted baggage, the Marquis won’t sit still once he finds out his daughter was sold as a slave. So let’s finish this quickly and disappear.”
The horrifying word slave drained every drop of warmth from Eliana’s body.
By now, they would surely have discovered that she had disappeared.
But she couldn’t imagine her father sending soldiers out to search for her.
If anything, he would probably pretend to look for a while before quietly declaring her missing.
Trapped in a pit so deep there was no escape, all Eliana could do was silently weep.
“Don’t lose your mind just yet, my lady. You’ve still got a long journey ahead.”
Pito spoke with a frown as he rolled over an empty rum barrel.
The wooden barrel was easily large enough to fit a small person inside.
A terrible premonition seized Eliana, and she began squirming frantically.
“Perfect size. But are you sure about this, Bron? What if she makes noise—”
“The gag’s tight. Don’t worry.”
Bron covered her eyes with a filthy strip of cloth and whispered unpleasantly.
“Lady Eliana, please stay nice and quiet. We’ll sell you for a very handsome price. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up warming the bed of some refined nobleman. That’s better than a brothel, isn’t it?”
Her heart seemed to drop straight to the ground.
The blindfold quickly became soaked with tears.
A pitiful cry escaped from behind the gag, but it changed nothing.
Without the slightest concern, Bron and his men lifted her like a piece of cargo, stuffed her inside the rum barrel, and sealed the lid shut.
The moment darkness swallowed her completely and even the outside sounds disappeared, overwhelming terror engulfed her.
Not long afterward, the barrel began moving.
As it was carried somewhere, it rocked violently, throwing Eliana helplessly against its wooden walls again and again.
The pain was so intense that even Cecilia’s slaps seemed merciful by comparison.
Unable to cling to the last fading threads of consciousness, Eliana finally lost consciousness.
The air after midnight was pleasantly cold.
Leaning against a great oak tree, Tristan quietly watched Tis drinking from a nearby stream.
Cold moonlight shimmered across the black stallion’s flowing mane.
As he enjoyed the tranquil scene, the rustling of leaves drew his attention.
Perched on a branch was a raven so enormous it could hardly be mistaken for an ordinary bird.
“You’re here already, Corus. Faster than I expected.”
The raven stared down at its master with gleaming yellow eyes, then casually dropped the tightly rolled paper it held in its beak.
With an irritated flap of its wings that stirred a gust of wind, it disappeared back into the darkness.
Clicking his tongue at the bird’s perpetually foul temperament, Tristan picked up the scroll and read.
My lord,
I’ve found Lady Eliana’s whereabouts. You should come to Alderon as quickly as possible. I’ll head there first and meet you there.
—Loras
“Alderon…”
For a young lady who had spent her entire life trapped inside a gilded cage, it was a remarkably reckless destination.
From the moment Loras informed him that Eliana had vanished, Tristan had sensed that something terrible had happened to her.
He had nearly reached the Crowd territory when the message arrived.
The instant he received it, he climbed down from his carriage and mounted Tis.
After ordering Loras to find Eliana’s whereabouts, he had ridden without rest until he reached the Crowd estate.
It had hardly been an appropriate hour for a visit.
But that didn’t matter.
There were only two things that concerned him:
To inform Marquis Crowd that he would find Eliana and take her with him.
And to retrieve the marriage contract that the Marquis had undoubtedly abandoned somewhere.
Nothing else mattered.
Yet the Marquis’s unexpected attitude had left a sour taste in Tristan’s mouth.
“Please… take good care of that child… of Eliana, Duke.”
Recalling the Marquis’s words, Tristan let out a quiet, mocking laugh.
He still remembered the deep despair he had seen in Eliana’s eyes that beautiful, warm spring day as she gazed down from the edge of the towering cliff.
Perhaps the Marquis himself had been the greatest reason for that despair.
Hearing such contradictory words from the man had stirred in Tristan a feeling he had not experienced in a very long time—
Disgust.
“Tis, it’s time we got moving.”
He gently stroked the horse’s mane a couple of times, as though brushing away the moonlight.
The stallion snorted happily and rubbed its face against Tristan’s palm.
Sending Loras ahead to Crowd territory to keep watch over Eliana had been the right decision after all.
By the time Tristan reached Alderon, his capable subordinate would most likely have already sorted everything out.
No matter what happened, he needed Eliana.
As though lost in thought, Tristan absently traced the faint scar that remained on his wrist.
Then, with one flawless movement, he mounted his horse and galloped into the cold night, cutting through the darkness.
