Chapter 112 – The Runaway Princess (2)

There was a constant grin on her lovely face. These days she found herself jolly. She had finally found a place of her own. A place where she does not have to worry. She would not have to care about a lifeless future that would have awaited her. The Town of Edawick was a blessing to her. It made her free and happy. She couldn’t ask for more other than the day where she would wed the man she had fallen for would come.

She remembered the time where her mother told her to be free. She escaped all those heavy responsibilities in spite of her own self. It was selfish. It was a callous choice that would have made her as heartless. Yet it didn’t bother her. She was free and that was all that matters.

She felt the wind caressed her hair. She was about to go her usual workplace. She found the other side of her door noisy, she opened her door and saw various men wearing uniforms. Seeing their uniforms, and the way they were dressed. She jolted back. She put both of her hands on her chest, trying to suppress this pounding fear in her heart.

“May I help you?” She said.

“Miss Cyra?” The man in pious robes stepped forward. He wore a robe. He had a belt and there was a pistol holstered around it. He scratched the floor with soles of his leather boots. The uniformed men behind him looked at her through the eye sockets of their great helms.

“Yes,” she said with worry.

“Can you come with us?”

“May I ask why?” asked Cyra, stepping back.

“You know who you are.”

“I don’t think I am getting you,” Cyra shook her head. She tried not looking nervous. But the man could see through her. He stepped forward.

“Cyra, of Maltius La Fende, Heiress of the Regent, daughter of the Lord Commissar. Who is the current head of the Maltius La Fende.”

“This is nonsense,” she shook her head and she took a step forward trying to get away. But the pious man and the men behind formed a wall that blocked her path. She tried to squeeze in but the pious man pulled the green brooch on her beck. This action made Cyra’s appearance flicker for a moment. Cyra stole the green brooch, the pious man didn’t resist as he grins at the flicker of illusion that he had seen.

“Ah, so it is true that your beauty isn’t exaggerated milady. To think that a simple accessory could hide you all these years. I am impressed.”

“Please leave me alone,” she said. Not even trying to hide it anymore. “I don’t want to go back.”

“That is not for you to decide,” The pious man said. “We’ve come here to take you back your father. You have escaped your duties and it by your father’s orders that we take you back by force if necessary. Wounds can heal, milady.”

There was a clear threat in her voice. Cyra clutched her chest, her eyes watering as if wanting to cry. And it was in that moment, at her time of distressed a voice called out. She craned her head at the voice and saw Silo’s limping figure coming towards them with fury in her eyes.

“HOW DARE YOU!” he roared in fury. His reason left him. All he could see was a bunch of bastards making Cyra cry. This didn’t sit well with him. It made him seethe with fury as he holds the rifles in his hand with fury. “Who do you think you people are!?”

This did not sit well with the Templars. They reached for their rifles and encircled the pious man and Cyra. The pious man made an impassive glare, he gestured at one of the Templars to act. Cyra did not like the looked of that gesture and tried speaking only to hear a gunshot.

“Oh no!” she shouted. She pushed the Templars away and there she saw Silo’s prosthetic leg blown off. The Templars didn’t expect that he had a wooden leg. Yet it was enough for the Templars to tackle Silo and take two punches that bruised his eye. Silo looked beaten.

The pious man was about to say something witty but he felt a loud slap on his cheek. It made him flinch and looking at that wrath-filled face of the lady. He could only sight and glare at her. “Is that man somehow important?”

“How dare you!” she said with scorn. “You people disgust me! Leave me alone!”

“That we can’t do,” The pious man said. “How about we do this? If you come with us then we’d make you that your loved one will not have his head blown away.” He made a fist gesture and signaled one of the Templars to point a rifle’s barrel at Silo’s head. “No!” shouted Cyra. “Don’t do this!” Her weakness was clear.

“You Templar bastards!” shouted Silo. “What the fuck are you pulling here? We didn’t do anything!”

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” said the pious man with a surprised. He made a gesture and two Templars held Cyra’s arms. Cyra struggled. Trying to break free from the Templars grasp. But the pious man pulled the green brooch away from her and there her appearance was revealed.

Unlike her old appearance, Cyra’s features become more stunning. Her plain looking face became that of a goddess. Her green sparkling eyes made the people around her swooned at her beauty. It was like a revealing the mask. And this made Silo starey at her.

“What?”

That was the only word Silo could muster. Cyra had this face of despair. The pious man explained. “What you see now is a princess of the Maltius la Fende, and you are not worthy of her. So how about you stay out of our way.”

“That’s not for you to decide!” Cyra roared. She stomped the pious man’s foot, bearing no effect at all. The Pious man looked at her. “Like I said Princess, your father told us to take you forcibly if necessary. He’ll forgive us for this. Come on men, let’s get out of here!”

The Templars holding Cyra started to drag her. Silo stood up like a madman. But he was struck down by the pious man with a single punch to the gut that was followed by a blow to the head. Silo reached out with his hand. Yet the only thing he could see was Cyra screaming before everything went blank for him.