Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 68 — Under The Rain (2)
Chapter 68: 68 — Under The Rain (2)
"Miss?"
"Yes, I am," she replied simply, snapping out of her deep thoughts as she noticed the man’s hand moving before her face. She couldn’t confirm herself as a half-breed but she could mislead him into believing so. That way, he wouldn’t be able to accuse her of lying in the future.
The man clapped his hands thrice, and the rest of his men appeared in front of Cynthia. She tried to remain calm, but the overwhelming mana radiating from those muscular and tall men was nearly unbearable. She had never been exposed to this much mana in the past.
"Is it this lady?" one of them asked, running his finger along his sharp knife, a few drops of blood dripping from his skin.
"Should we kill her now?" Another asked, ready to strike his knife her way at any moment.
"Stop it!" The man beside Cynthia, their leader, shrieked.
"But..."
"She is one of us. We should escort her home safely, you fools!"
Cynthia bit her tongue, trying to stop herself from laughing. She felt slightly guilty for deceiving them, but she could only reason with herself:
Everything is fair in war. And revenge is no less than war, isn’t it?
"Where do you live, Miss?" the leader asked, leaning slightly toward the shorter young lady.
Cynthia examined the men carefully, searching for the pendant she used to call for Arlot. Once she noticed the round-shaped object in one of the men’s hands, she walked toward him.
"Excuse me, can I have this, please?" she asked with a bright smile.
"And why should I give it to you?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow, clearly not falling for her innocent demeanor.
Cynthia pursed her lips. She needed Arlot to bring her back to the estate as soon as these men dropped her off somewhere.
Should I just fight them?
Cynthia shook her head. It was too risky. Most of them were twice her size and weight. She wasn’t a fool who overestimated her strength like those who threw themselves before hundreds of enemies only to be cut into a thousand pieces.
"... I can exchange it for something more valuable. I have this," Cynthia pulled out the ruby ring she was wearing and held it in her palm. "Give me that, and I’ll give you this."
The men burst into laughter as if she had made some joke. She tilted her head to the side, perplexed by their sudden reaction.
"You speak like a proper bargainer! I don’t mind giving it to you if you hand over something made of ruby. Anyway, this is too light and won’t be worth much," he said, placing the pendant on Cynthia’s palm and taking the ring.
"Now, where shall we drop you off, Miss? We might seem like dangerous men, but we won’t harm an innocent commoner like yourself."
"About that, boss. Why not take off these black masks? They’re too annoying to wear because of the rain," one of the men complained.
"Sure, let’s do that."
The leader began pulling off his mask, revealing his golden hair and a pair of gray eyes. His men followed suit, each revealing distinct features.
Cynthia couldn’t help but be shocked. She had read that shapeshifters had unique traits, but the combinations of their appearances were surreal.
Golden hair with gray eyes, light blue hair with red eyes, black eyes with red hair, dark skin, light skin, pale skin—each of them seemed to be a blend of various human traits and animals, just as Cynthia had read in her books. Golden hair was almost nonexistent, and while blue hair was rare yet not unheard of, only blue, green, or violet eyes were common—never red. And it was the same for the other men standing before Cynthia.
She could somehow understand the fear of the kings of every nation—they feared the way these beings looked, possessing such unique traits and immense mana.
I made the right decision not to fight them. I would have certainly died if I had confronted them alone.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Cynthia froze when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She glanced up, looking at the golden-haired man.
"We have arrived, Miss. Is this where you work?" he asked, pointing his hand toward Countess Gionhard’s estate.
She decided to return to the countess’ mansion instead of going back to the grand duke’s. If they knew she lived there, it would have been easier to track her and discover she was lying to them.
"Alright. Thank you for bringing me here. It was easier thanks to your teleportation magic," Cynthia smiled.
"You’re welcome. Then..." the golden-haired man paused, slowly stepping closer to Cynthia, who narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what he was up to.
"By the way... that shapeshifter... is he your familiar?" the tall man asked in a low tone, leaning close to Cynthia’s ear.
Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she stepped backward.
"You... how?"
"Why don’t you ask him?" the man said before snapping his fingers and disappearing in a violet light.
Baffled by his words, Cynthia clenched the round-shaped pendant in her fist.
Feeling the hard object against her skin, she lifted her hand and looked at it. She softly rubbed her fingers on it, and soon another violet light flashed before her eyes, and Arlot appeared.
"Your Highness!" He quickly reached for her shoulders, panicked. She looked like a mess: disheveled hair, drenched clothes, and her pale cheeks flushed red from the cold.
"Calm down," she sighed, pushing his hand off her shoulders.
The white-haired man nodded, biting his lips. He had once again crossed a line. However, seeing her like this was something he had never experienced before. She was always elegant and composed. She looked beautiful regardless of her situation now, but...
"What happened?" he asked, fear lingering in his eyes. He didn’t expect an answer, and perhaps this time, as always, she would simply brush it off with her usual reply. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
"Some thieves attacked my carriage."
"I shouldn’t have asked—" Arlot paused, surprised. He hadn’t expected her to answer his question.
"Wait, what?! Where are they?! Did they hurt you?"
Arlot panicked, looking left and right in search of the culprits.
Cynthia chuckled, shaking her head.
"You think I’m that easy? Anyway, we need to talk."
"Yes?" Arlot asked nervously.
"Not now. We need to head back... my dear husband must have returned home."
Arlot nodded, snapping his fingers and making a violet light appear once again. The two entered the small door of violet light, and in the blink of an eye, they stood before the mansion.
"Oh! I forgot about the horseman," Cynthia gasped, looking up at Arlot, who stood behind her.
"Where is he?" Arlot asked, looking down at the young woman.
"I think they killed him. I didn’t see properly because I was..." she paused, hearing footsteps along with the sound of dripping rain.
"Leave for now," she ordered in a low tone, almost like a whisper.
Once Arlot had left, Cynthia headed toward the estate’s gate, where the guards stood.
"Open the door," she sighed, arranging her hair behind her shoulders.
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