Now alone with only a dozen stallions and the two men that had bought her for more than her new identity was worth, Oris forced her chin up and away from the hand that held onto her face.

"What do you want with me?" she asked, first looking at the man beside her then at the one who stood closer to the exit.

They shared enough features to be closely related, brothers most likely.

They both had forest green eyes and jet black hair, dark tanned skin and deep scars that made them look all the more intimidating. The additional fact that they wore the same set of equipment made Oris wonder if they were also in the same guild.

She couldn't spot an emblem from where she stood but if her guess was true then this was more of a mission than something personal and that was good for her.

"For an orphan, you sure do talk a lot," the man at the entrance said, his right hand shifting to grasp the hilt of his longsword.

Now she saw it, the cross tattooed on his inner arm and the inked serpent drawn below, its maws open as it attempted to swallow it.

The Devil's Preach, I should have known.

In her time as Queen, she had fought to get rid of them—a group of bandits daring enough to commit crime under the nose of the law by forming a guild. They would take on any job if the price was right.

"Are you two brothers?" she asked, but didn't really care for the answer. "Don't you have a sister who—"

"You better shut it there, Missy," the bandit closest to her hissed, "my brother might seem calm and collected, but he's the more brutal of us two. It's best to keep that pretty mouth of yours closed till we get you to our employer to prevent any unforseen accidents."

On hearing that, Oris nodded, relieved to know that she would not be harmed in any way by the two men. Bandits loved a free woman, yes. But apparently, they loved gold pieces more.

A job that paid enough to let them toss a sack of coins to a grubby old innkeep just for one measly girl was obviously one that couldn't be trifled with.

She still had more questions to ask though, and waited silently to see if she could glean anymore information.

Why did their employer want her? Was her kidnapping a specific order or was it simply a coincidence that she had been caught? Had her identity been revealed or not?

Unfortunately, none of these questions would be answered because soon after Oris was forced to turn around while her wrists were looped together in a series of rope ties.

Reluctantly, she let go of the reins she had been holding, knowing nothing good would come from spooking the horse or retaliating. As long as none of her clothes were coming off, she was fine with these turn of events.

Her one sole goal since leaving her castle had been to raise a worthy heir. One that could one day overthrow Hermes and bring order back to the world. She knew that she herself had no power yet she also knew that she could not die.

Her firstborn had to be of a legitimate line, the offspring of someone she was bound to for life.

It was for that reason she and Rodholf had remain chaste for the two years since fleeing Orse. He was not her match, as much as she cared for him, both now and in the past. The child that would result from their union would not be able to awaken the Orsan bloodline and hence would never be deemed royal.

So, Oris decided, if she found no route of escape she would take her own life. She would not let her body be defiled.

That was both a promise to herself and her unborn child.

"What are your names?" She tried sounding sweet this time. Since they already knew she was female, why not play it to her advantage?

"Tristan," the one inspecting the ropes binding her wrists for the third time answered.

"Marcka."

"You are both in a guild?" Oris asked again, feeling thrilled by the fact that she had gotten their names so easily. "I've always wanted to join one."

"Is that why you dress like a lad?" Marcka asked while examining her face.

"I thought I was convincing." Oris shrugged, deciding that it was best for the men to assume whatever they wanted.

"You are," Tristan said as he tied the other end of the rope to the wooden pole beside him. "If Ducan wasn't in want of cash, he would not have sold you out."

"You're just caught up in a bad time," Marcka added and Oris jerked her head towards him, surprised that he was taking the initiative to speak. "A lot of girls are dressing up as boys nowadays. I was thinking that greedy innkeep had scammed us of our money and sold us a stablehand he had no use for anymore."

"So," Oris shifted her hands to check how loose her bonds were, "this was all Fate's doing."

"You could say that."

That was the last thing Oris heard before a sack was thrown over her head and her sight taken away from her.

She heard the brothers whisper something to themselves before their footsteps slowly faded away.

The moment they left, a horse neighed and Oris sighed, knowing that in times like these no one would free a person they found tied up in the stables. That was why Tristan hadn't even bothered to gag her, even if she screamed someone might just decide to run her through with a sword to make her quiet.

"It's days like these that I wish I carried a dagger around." Oris sighed and gave up on freeing her hands.

She leaned against the pole and slowly lowered herself to the ground, glad that the rope was long enough to allow it.

She crossed her legs and closed her eyes.

If she couldn't escape now, then she'd sleep till she could. Rodholf had been gone for three weeks already, he was due to come back in three more.

She just needed to survive till then.

~