As Mateo had said, he found Gilles guarding the prisoners. The soldier was slouching with a bored expression on his face, but when he saw him, he immediately straightened his posture and puffed out his chest.

“Sir Roel!” he said too loudly. “What an honor it is to see you on this fine night! Did you consider my offer? I might not be able to aid you in battle, but I can sharpen your sword. The key to success in battle is preparation, preparation, preparation!”

“Who told you that?” he asked.

“My old man!” Gilles said proudly. “They called him the Armorslayer. One swing of his axe and he could cut a man in half, armor and all.”

“That is very impressive.”

“Isn’t it? Uh, not that he’s as great as you, sir.”

“Anyway, I just came here to check up on you. How goes it?”

“You’re worried about me?” Gilles broke into a wide smile. “I’m doing excellent, sir. Couldn’t be better.”

“That’s good.”

“That was such an awesome fight earlier, too! You didn’t look like you were even trying. Was that ten percent of your power? Five percent? That’s paladins for ya.”

“Mm.” Roel cleared his throat. “Is it always just one person on guard duty?”

“During the night, yeah.” Gilles threw look a disdain over to the prison wagon. “There’s nothing much to worry about.”

“How are the prisoners?”

He shrugged. “They’re prisoners.”

Roel peered in through the bars of the prison wagon. The prisoners averted their gaze. All, of course, but one woman.

“You’re back,” she said. Her voice was as cold and calm as when they had first talked.

“You shouldn’t waste your time with them, sir,” Gilles cut in.

“It’s fine, just give me a moment,” he said.

“But it’s really not–”

“Gilles,” he said firmly. “I am conducting an investigation on His Majesty’s orders. Do not forget your place.”

Gilles shut his mouth and immediately distanced himself from them. Roel sighed. A small feeling of irritation had followed him ever since he slayed that monster, but he didn’t mean to take it out on the soldier. He looked back and saw the woman staring at him.

“So, what else does your king want from the people of Rove?” she asked icily.

“There’s nothing to worry about. This is just a preliminary questioning before your hearing with the king,” he improvised.

She said nothing, but he saw her dark eyes scrutinizing him. He needed to ascertain the motives of these prisoners. If he freed them and they refused to run away, that would be a problem for his plan.

“Why did your country fight back? Surely, you had no chance of winning.”

“Even so, it was worth fighting.” It seemed that she had learned from their previous conversation because although her words were firm, her tone was carefully measured as to not give anything else away.

“You were bound to lose even before I showed up,” he said, trying to provoke her. “I just expedited the process.”

“Perhaps. But if we didn’t at least try to resist, it would’ve been disgraceful.”

“It was a hopeless fight.”

“Not for us. The Republic of Rove has stood for many years with the Lord by our side.”

“And now it will be completely absorbed into Calorin.”

“So it will appear. But our story will not end here.”

“You’re confident.”

“And you’re not,” and now her voice rose as if to provoke him. “The way you killed that beast was cowardly.”

“It was a monster.”

“Not a monster. A beast. They’re not interchangeable terms. Before the Lord’s brother created us, it was the Lord who first breathed life into beasts. Therefore, the beasts are closer to the Lord than we are, and you slaughtered it without a trace of remorse.”

“So, I should’ve let it kill me?”

“You should’ve let it leave. Beasts hunt. It is not their choice. But you had a choice, and you chose to brutalize it.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” He shook his head. They were getting off-topic. “The king will treat you fairly if you surrender to him.”

“He will turn us into his puppets, like King Maxime did to our neighbors.” The spiteful words didn’t come from the woman but instead from the long-haired blonde man he had talked to yesterday.

“Florence, don’t intrude,” the woman said with a sigh.

“How can I not when this man continues to treat us with disrespect?” Florence said. “You may be a Divine Paladin in Calorin, but to us you are nothing but a blight. I do not dare to assume the Lord’s plans, but surely He has misfortune in store for you.”

“That’s enough,” the woman said wearily. “You better keep your mouth shut when we’re before the king. We can’t risk enraging him.”

“So, you do plan to surrender?” Roel asked.

“Of course. You have already caught us. From here on out, we must do what we can to survive.” The woman’s words were self-deprecating, but he sensed her ambivalence. The people of Rove didn’t seem like they would give up so easily.

“One day, though, I will take your head,” Florence said, confirming his suspicions. “My name is Florence Gagnon, and my house has served the Republic of Rove for a century. No matter how many years it takes, we will repay the humiliation you served us at the siege.”

“Florence, don’t embarrass yourself,” the woman said. “You’re a good fighter, no doubt, but you don’t stand a chance against someone with the Lord’s Favor.”

“I await your challenge,” Roel said. Florence scowled, probably assuming that he was being mocked, but everything was falling into place in Roel’s mind. If given a chance to escape, these people would.

“This conversation has been helpful. I will take my leave now,” he said.

Florence looked away from him, but the young woman spoke to him with a serious expression on her face. “There is a string of fate between you and us. It cannot be a coincidence that a man with the Lord’s Favor has appeared before us three times now. The Lord may indulge in His mysteries at times, but I have never underestimated such coincidences. Heed my words carefully, Sir Roel.”

“Will do.” He spoke the words casually, but to some level, he agreed with her words. Whether or not they were by some grand design was beside the point; coincidences were rarely that.

“Oh,” he turned back to the woman, “you know my name, but I never got yours.”

“Jocelyne."

“Then, Jocelyne of Rove,” he said, “I hope for your sake that this is the last coincidence we’ll share.”