A few days had passed since then.

That day, a major parade was held throughout Bravell. People were cheering from the windows of their homes and from the sides of the streets. They waved “The Violet Banner”, the flag of Serenadia, known for its unique forty-eight white leaves design with violet background that gave it its name. They chanted the old patriotic songs unheard for a few decades back. A parade that massive was never held since the Fymian administration.

It was natural. That day was special. It was the day of deployment for the army.

Amongst those in the center of attention that day was Lys, who was silently sitting on his mount. Beside him, on a mightier-looking stallion and dressed in a fabulous-looking warring attire was Princess Mayda.

Mayda was a hereditary princess whom Lys was assigned to assist. She was about Lys’ height. Her hair was cut short in a bob-cut, which was typical for warriors or martial arts practitioners who’d find keeping their long hair bothersome. Her eyes were perfect black, which emphasised her stern gaze. Her warring attire was a rather unusual combination of steel armor and silk. Although she wasn’t as popular as Lulley, Mayda was one of Bravell’s most beloved.

Behind them was her regular army of two thousand men, carrying the symbol of the Mayda Principality, a black shark on a white banner and the symbol of Serenadia, a white bird on a violet banner. They marched together as a fragment of thirty thousand men marching out from Bravell that day.

As one of the most popular noble, Mayda was greeting the saluting people by raising her right hand, waving and smiling. Lys in the other hand kept his silence. In such silence he could feel his heart growing anxious for various reasons.

The main reason was Betta. In the end he never said a word to her.

If Betta were to learn the news, without a doubt she’d be worried sick. She’d spare no expense to prevent him from going. Hence, for some moments Lys thought he saw Betta’s silhouette somewhere amongst the crowd, trying to halt his march.

Worrying her was the last thing Lys wanted to do.

At that present, he still believed what he said back then to the Keep.

He wasn’t going to war.

The worst thing he could expect was a set of skirmishes with a few possible incidents. The settlers were not an army but a ragtag civilian militia. It wasn’t something to tell Betta about.

Lys kept assuring himself that he’d be alright.

He’d return for a week and tell Betta nothing happened while he was away.

But somewhere in his heart, he thought something was odd.

For once in the midst of cheering people and lively streets, Lys couldn’t help but to feel a lonesome sentiment.

====v====

Amongst the ten states of Fymia, the lands of Serenadia were known to be the least perilous to travel.

Outside Bravell, the stretches of Serenadia were mostly flatlands of lush meadows as far as one’s eye can reach. Its one and only highway was well patrolled and people did not have to cross forests or any other possible hostile landscape, thus it was extremely unlikely to get lost. Very rarely, if never, aggressive or dangerous wild beasts would traverse these calm lands. Truly, the state had the serenest and safest road a merchant could ever ask.

The only woods in Serenadia were located on its northwestern tip of the borders, which happened to be the location of the settlers’ insurgence.

The woods covered only a few small patches of the northwestern border land, and were previously an infamous gathering place for foragers and hunters from Bravell, for its games were plenty and its herbs were abundant. Occasionally, traders and merchants from neighboring states of Amalgamatia and Tsaryn would come to the woods to trade with the hunters and foragers. They would trade furs with silverwares, antlers with hunting supplies, and so on.

‘The trades and the bountiful harvests might have been also one of the reasons why the settlers stood their position…’

As Lys was pondering aimlessly, he sighed.

It had been six days since Lys left Bravell. The friendly landscape of Serenadia assured the army’s smooth advance and they have finally reached the northwestern part of the state.

The army would stop every night and build a makeshift camp. During such nights they would drink and sing in jolly manner. Lys wasn’t happy with it, he found such attitude before warring, and possibly killing, mere insurgent civilians were too disturbing for his consciences.

Mayda would come to his tent occasionally, asking him about a few things and they’d have pointless conversations. Once, she asked him of his thoughts about the war. In all honesty Lys could’ve had answered her honestly that he thought the whole ordeal was a total waste of the merchants’ taxes. But he kept it for himself, as he had somewhat managed to establish an amicable relationship with Mayda wished to keep their ties cordial even after the skirmish, judging that he had few allies in the council In the end he told Mayda he just wished it’d end quickly without too much incident.

And indeed, the campaign went on without too much incident for the Serenadian army.

Then, the fourth day of the campaign came. It was a clear and sunny day, a day one might expect from a Serenadian summer. After a war briefing from Kashvag earlier that day, Lys, Mayda and her army were assigned to survey and scout a certain territory in the borders.

The territory they assigned to lies just before the Amalgamatian border, the border itself was separated by thin woods that could be easily traveled in fifteen minutes by foot.

So far, a few skirmishes were fought, but his fragment of an army never had a piece of any action. Kashvag and Sinod, who were assigned to assist the Grand Princess, pretty much handled almost all the battles. Kashvag told the war council that it might be possible to return to Bravell in a matter of days, perhaps in a day or two, should they maintain and keep up with his pace.

That day, the thought of running into a skirmish wasn’t in Lys mind. He knew they were winning the battle anyway. He told Mayda to bring arrows in case they’d run into the insurgents, but his thoughts were somewhere else. Although he knew it’d do him nothing good, he was still figuring out the motive of their deployment.

As for why, perhaps Lys was just trying to look for a possible justification should he was forced to kill in that war. He was a politician who had lived a life that, while not exactly idle, was free of violent conflicts.

After all, he had never done it before, killing. Surely seeing someone live at one moment and dead on the next and being responsible for it would leave some kind of a mark for the rest of his life. Although he had no idea how it’d exactly affect him.

“Sir Ravenlicht, look.”

“… Huh…?”

A band of the settlers’ militia was on the other side of the field.

“Looks like they’ll attack. Should we deploy?”

“No… Please wait, milady.”

There were five hundred men, at most. The Maydan army outnumbered the militias four to one. They had about forty horses, the rest of the men are dismounted. It was hard to see their weapons, but from what he could see, their weapons were not uniform. Perhaps they just grabbed whatever the Tsaryn merchants offered them.

It was hard for Lys to decide.

He’d want to end this skirmish with minimal casualties, none if possible.

There were plenty of Maydan officers escorting them. Among these officers was the personal war adviser to the lady. And up until then, no comment was made from him. Lys presumed either course of action was acceptable to him.

“Should we call Lord Kashvag, after all? We’re only here to scout anyway.”

“The men will be agitated that way, Sir Ravenlicht. The campaign's about to be over and they have yet to gain any merit from these assignments. I’ll deploy th---“

“By all means, milady. Please wait for a moment.”

Returning to call for the main army was probably not the preferable choice for Mayda.

Although Lys thought that were the main army was here they’d surrender without a fight, he felt that Mayda might find the thought of turning their backs on the enemy to be appalling.

In addition, from the conversations they had made for the last few days, he concluded that Mayda was one of those warrior-princess breed. The fact that they haven’t had any action since their deployment might not sit well with her. Lys, however, wasn’t about to let her to do anything rash.

For now, Lys thought, perhaps he should entertain her pent up bloodlust a little bit. But he wasn’t going to suggest anything to Mayda without a second thought from another party available there.

“Sir adviser, what do you think? Should we engage?”

He called out to Mayda’s personal adviser who had kept his silence up until now.

He was a man in his early forties, or perhaps late thirties. Bravell haven’t had any violent conflict for the last twenty years, but someone his age would probably know what to do, in fact, he should. He was, after all, her adviser.

“According to our orders, we’re here only to scout. I personally recommend against it… But I understand that the lady needs a practical experience, regardless whether there’ll be a future battle or not… If the lady wishes to engage, I suggest engaging them from a distance.”

Lys gazed on the other side of the field once again.

‘From a distance… huh? They’re an arvina away… our projectiles will reach.’

“Milady, please tell the archers to deploy.”

Said Lys to the lady. That would’ve had been for the best, he thought.

There were five hundreds archers in the Maydian army, and each one of them carried fifteen arrows. Lys predicted that the militia would retreat as soon as they realise there was at least one arrow for each of their head. The rest of the Maydian army wouldn’t have to deploy as well.

Mayda acknowledged their advice and drew her breath,

“Archers!”

As soon as her voice reached the banner bearers, violet flags of a white bow and an arrow, which was the sign for archers to deploy, were waved. Her orders were passed to her right and left and eventually the whole force by louder voices of her sergeants.

“Archers!!!” “Archers!!”

“ARCHEEEEEEEEERSSSSSS!!!!!”

Then archers rushed through to the front line with their weapons ready.

Then, it was an unnerving silence.

Mayda asked Lys whether it was fine to fire at them.

Lys nodded.

With that nod, there was a deafening howl of a horn, with that the archers took their stance to shoot.

And by the second howl, five hundred archers sent their arrows to the skies.

The arrows didn’t stay in the skies for long.

Pretty soon they found their way to the band of settlers. The settlers didn’t have anything much to shelter themselves, many of them were struck and fell down. Probably dead.

Then another howl, all the archers took their shooting stance back. At this moment there were some movements in the other side of the field, but it didn’t seem like the militia were heading towards the Serenadian army. They didn’t shoot back either. Probably they weren’t armed to do so.

Second wave of arrows were sent flying into the skies.

When the arrows reach the grounds, more of them were struck. They didn’t even have time to retaliate and shoot back, perhaps they didn’t have archers in the first place.

Then, in a clear manner of distraught, the insurgents retreated to the woods.

Lys, meanwhile, was still dumbstruck.

He was shivering down to his spine.

It only took a nod to take down that many lives. He couldn’t count how many fell with those two attacks, but he somewhat felt he was responsible for their lives.

He wasn’t a soldier or a landed noble.

He never belonged in this place.

He didn’t want any of this.

Heck, he didn’t even feel obliged to do this.

And yet all he did was to give a nod.

What he saw made him numb, his thoughts were in a moment of disorder.

Whoever fell there, they must have had a family with them.

Had Lys was one of those men who fell, how would Betta feel?

“Sir Ravenlicht?”

“Ah… Yes…?”

For the second time of the day, Mayda’s call broke his trance.

She was obviously in a good mood.

The adviser gave her a tap on her shoulder.

“It seems that we drove them off.”

“Well done on your first successful deployment, milady.”

“Indeed, thanks to you and your archers, milady… We’ll be back before dinner I suppose, should we return?”

“It’s good that we have them routed by just arrows. But for the campaign to end, we’ll just have to resort to extra measures. I’ll give them a chase, would you two come?”

‘A chase?’

A second of stillness passed.

“A chase?!”

Her horse neighed loudly and drowned out his voice.

“No! Wait… Sir Adviser, stop her!”

It went in an instant.

Mayda probably wasn’t having any more of Lys’ ‘wait, milady’, she hadn’t even heard Lys’ reply when she cried “CAVALRY, FORWARD!”, as she instructed the whole cavalry to follow her and started to chase the remnants of the militia. The adviser shrugged, sighed and shook his head, he gave Lys a short nod and galloped after her.

Lys had yet to recover from the shock of his first “kill”. All he did for the next few minutes was to see Mayda go. Lys’ eyes followed Mayda and her cavalry speeding towards the woods.

… And it was then.

It was then that it came.

It was a gut feeling.

A very nasty one, in fact.

Lys was not educated in the arts of warfare. He had no battle experience either.

He knew not of strategy or clever maneuvers and the like.

But he didn’t like the idea of having to chase an angry group of people to the woods where he couldn’t see things.

Not one bit.

After all, driving away the enemy with two waves of arrows might have been too good to be true.

The day was supposedly over when the militia was routed. But it didn’t.

He didn’t want to go forward, the dead bodies on the other side of the field were not visible to him and thus he managed to suppress his guilt. Going there would mean seeing them in all its gory detail.

But for now, he had to stop her.

He just knew he had to.

“Sigh, this is going a little too fast for me…”

All of the cavalry had left Lys save for the thirty mobile guards Mayda left to guard him. He frantically asked them to hand over their fastest horse since his obviously wasn’t exactly mounted on the best one, and quickly rushed to Mayda’s side.

His hand were wet in cold sweat,

He tried to call Mayda. But perhaps the hooves of the horses and the heat of battle made his voice never reached her.

He never made it when the Maydan cavalry and his adviser entered the woods either.

When his turn came to enter the woods, however… there were no cries of battle.

Instead, the sickening smell of blood, and with it, horrors he wished he never witnessed.

Evidently, Lys saw some men flee the woods for the Amalgamatian badlands,

The Maydan cavalry of three hundred horses, on the other hand…

They were all but wiped out in a mere five minutes.

There were ropes tied between the trees.

Arrows were struck on the horses and the dead men.

He was wrong, they did have such weapons after all. They were hunters, for the Judge’s sake.

Most likely, the arrows and the ropes were the reason why the cavalry were defeated.

Their archers had been hiding in the woods all along, waiting for pursuers to come.

Those men on the field were the bait. They actually wanted to think that they were routed, and for pursuers to come.

It was a flawed plan for an ambush. There were many holes in their plot.

Had Mayda didn’t give a chase, the plan would never succeeded.

But it did.

At that moment, Lys dismounted. His thoughts told him to look for Mayda.

The woods were not that thick, he’d find her within minutes.

Hours, if his luck was bad.

But perhaps for Lys, that day, his luck had already hit rock bottom.

====v====

What happened for Lys next happened as if it were a collection of fast-moving images before his eyes. He witnessed as things unraveled before him, but he had not the mental capacity to process what he saw.

It took Lys approximately fifteen minutes to find Mayda. Her distinctive wardrobe, although tattered, gave Lys the clue that it might have been her.

When he found Mayda, she certainly wasn’t in her best shape. She was lifelessly lying on the dirt. Apart from her tattered gear, an arrow had pierced her right limbs and, as Lys was trying to hold his scream, another arrow had pierced one of Mayda’s eyes.

It was her right eye.

Blood was flowing from what was her right eye.

Despite her horrible state, Mayda, however, was still breathing.

The same can’t be said to the man lying not far from her. The adviser was dead, guts spilling out and all. In the end he never got a chance to stop her… but at least he was there to defend her in his last moments, apparently.

Silence. He found his heartbeat was rising on an abnormal rate.

In such panic, Lys quickly mounted his horse to return and inform the rest of the force that Mayda was still alive, but she’d need immediate attention.

He was a little worried whether the militia would be back. But when the rest of the force picked Mayda up, there were no signs of them.

As for what happened after that, Lys couldn’t be sure.

He could only remember the essential parts.

Amongst them was their return to the main camp where Kashvag reprimanded him to no end, blaming him for what happened.

In front of the council, as Kashvag raised his voice, he informed the council that Lys was there to assist Mayda, who was known to the council to be not particularly patient. As a fellow member of the council he should’ve understood the subtle meaning of his assignment and prevent such circumstances from happening. But not only did Lys fail his expectations, some important men of the Mayda house were also dead.

A miracle left Lady Mayda alive, but with the alleged cost of temporary paralysis of her left arm, and of course, she’d lose her right eye. When she woke up, Lys didn’t remember what Mayda said to him. But it wasn’t a word to blame him. Perhaps.

In a fit of rage, Kashvag ordered the main army to set fire to the woods.

He ordered an expedition to be sent to Amalgamatia to hunt down the escaped guerilla forces responsible for Mayda’s near-fatal injury.

In addition, he announced that the campaign was to be cut short and all the forty-nine princes and princesses were to return to Bravell immediately. Once they’d reach Bravell, the council, through the Grand Princess, would declare Mayda as the heroine of the campaign.

Lulley didn’t voice her objection in any of these.

No one else did.

Even Sinod, who usually would say a thing or two, didn’t say a single word.

Later, they embarked on a non-stop journey to Bravell. They didn’t even stop for the night. Getting Mayda to Bravell to receive further treatments was the main priority. In their way back, there were neither songs nor laughter.

They reached Bravell two days later after the incident, in the dead of the night.

When the party returned to the Grand Palace, Lys was instructed to stay in the palace for the night. Amongst the whole party, Lulley was shown to be the most fatigued, she’d collapse anytime soon. Her usual carriage was lent to Mayda, and she had to ride her own horse. It surely wasn’t a pleasant experience for her.

Lys himself didn’t have any time to rest.

The council members, excluding Lys, were later summoned by Kashvag early that morning, Lys was instructed to be on standby and thus he had not the chance to get any sleep. When he tried to enter the parliament chamber, he was barred from entry for an hour, and when he was allowed to enter the, all other eyes gave him unsettling looks.

There, Kashvag sat in wait. He showed a clear sign of exhaustion and displeasure.

“Sir Lys Ravenlicht.”

On the first sight of Lys, Kashvag began talking.

“The parliamentary tribunal to decide your punishment for what happened to Lady Mila of the Mayda House has reached a verdict.”

And he started by saying things incomprehensible for Lys.

“A tribunal? A verdict?”

Lys stood in disbelief.

Silence. No one was there to answer.

“Excuse me, Lord Kashvag. If this is about what happened to Lady Mayda, I believe I have told you my version of story. Lady Mayda rushed forward without I could even react! I did even ask her adviser to stop her----- and what do you mean you held a tribunal without my presence, and, by the Judge, a verdict? I’VE DONE MY DUE! What do you think you are doi---?!“

“Would you like to go to prison, Sir Ravenlicht?”

A shocking question.

Who knows what Kashvag had told the council before his admittance to the chamber.

“We’re not particularly keen to hear excuses, sir. No one was there to testify to lighten your case. What happened was, you were there with Lady Mayda, you failed to prevent Lady Mayda from that disastrous accident that cost her her right eye. Thirty witnesses from the Maydan army told us that you had minutes to stop her yourself, but you were just there, idling, waiting. You were late in rescuing her. In addition, your incompetence gave way to the necessary action of burning the northwestern woods, which will hurt our revenue and the loss of jobs for some of our citizens.”

It took a few minutes for Lys to swallow all that,

So what happened was, he was officially to blame for the whole incident.

And since the adviser was dead. He couldn’t be here to testify for his defence. For some reason the other guards Mayda had assigned to guard him testified against him, too. He didn't know whether it was out of spite as they need someone to blame for Mayda's injury, or whether it was caused by Kashvag's pressure.

On an added bonus, albeit Kashvag was the one who ordered the burning of the woods, the public would otherwise know that Lys was responsible instead. Depending on how Kashvag’d spin the story, this might cause him to suffer in the next campaign.

“What if I were to refuse this verdict?”

“You will be stripped of your title and will be replaced immediately. In addition you’ll go to prison, with no definite day of release.”

Now, that was not a desirable answer.

Lys never thought what he did would make him eligible for all that.

He knew Kashvag never liked him, but he never knew he’d go this far.

“May I have my defence?”

“I told you that we’re not keen to hear your excuses. The witnesses spoke and what happened as I narrated a while back was already an established fact. The tribunal was held and a decision was made. Say a word more, I dare you. You’ll be on your way to the city prison by then.”

By then Lys made sure his mouth shut. He knew he had already lost the game.

There was no way for him to go to prison. That’d be the same as killing Betta.

It appeared that Lulley did not make any moves to defend him. None of the council members, in fact, jumped in to defend him.

Kashvag wanted him out. And out he’ll go.

“Well. Fortunately, despite of your thoughtlessness back then. Lady Mayda will recover. Of course the poor lady will lose her right eye, but the Mayda house was thankful enough for their daughter’s return. She wasn’t dead and that was enough for them, so the house of Mayda decided not to press the issue any further. Unless you say unnecessary things here, we could not send you to prison.”

There was a clear annoyance on his face as he said that. Especially that last part.

Kashvag took a short breath, and continued his onslaught.

“Despite of the magnanimity of the Maydas, however, the council has decided that you’ll have to be punished nonetheless. But it’ll be a constructive and a rehabilitative punishment for you and the state. We decided to exil---- no, send you on a diplomatic mission. To Iurzemlya. The Archduchy of Rosenfeld to be exact.”

Iurzemlya, the southern continent.

Even if he were to use the fastest ship, it was at least one month away from Bravell.

This was certainly a temporary exile.

Kashvag even were about to say it himself. He was exiled as “punishment”.

“Your job, is to ensure good relations with the Archduchess in behalf of Serenadia. Actually we’ve had had a few missions to that country, but we never managed to get very far with them…”

Lulley nodded at that sentence break.

It seemed that she agreed that Serenadia had made no progress with whatever they’ve had been discussing with this Rosenfeld.

“As a fellow state in the Fymian Empire, we can’t leave our relationship as it is. Rosenfeld itself is a very… curious country, but perhaps as a merchant’s son, you can figure them out… despite of your incompetence you’ve shown earlier this week, you might do well in this second chance. Rejoice, you can even consider this as a holiday. We'll even pay for your travels, see? Oh… you have two years there before you may return.”

Two years of exile.

Heaven knows what Betta would say when she’d learn all of this.

Lys was trying to contain his anger, he was too tired to show any sign of resistance.

He couldn’t let Kashvag interpret his emotions as an act of defiance either.

“Are you displeased in any way, Sir Ravenlicht?”

“Not at all.”

“Good! I heard that Rosenfeld is cold all year-round. I do certainly hope you like cold weather, Sir Ravenlicht. It’ll do well to cool that anger-tinted face of yours down.”

He did well to figure out Lys’ confined anger.

Lys himself didn’t know his face was red.

“You’ll be leaving in seven days at most, prepare whatever you need at that time. A notification will come to explain your mission. Oh, and don’t bother to come here in those spare days… Well then, you are dismissed.”

With his fate finalised. Lys bowed to the council and the Grand Princess, and turned his back to leave the chamber.

“Now that the most unpleasant affair was taken care of, Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m sure you’re all tired. Feel free to rest for the day, we’ll have another meeting first thing in the morning. That would be all.”

As he stepped out from the chamber, he could hear the closure of today’s assembly.

‘Most unpleasant affair, eh…’

====v====

After being dismissed from the council, Lys rode through town with no specific direction.

He was not in the mood to go to the North Star, he was not in the mood to go home, either. The Keep and Betta might have expected him, but his bitter face would be a painful sight for them, so he steered clear from those two places.

When he finally got a grip on himself, he found himself in the southern part of the city, where the town docks were.

He learned it first from the sound of ocean waves, and the cry of evening birds.

Before him were the vast seas. The sun was going down. The sky was giving a wondrous hue of red, orange, yellow, blue and black. The lines of the clouds were moving swiftly. The moon and stars were starting to show their figures. It was a picturesque perfection.

Lys had seen the view countless times before.

When he was a kid, he’d occasionally wonder whether there were actually things beyond the horizon, where the sun would set and ships disappear from his sight. Perhaps the earth and the seas truly did swallow them, but they always return the next day.

He’d wonder, but never once the thought that he’d have to be on one of those ships which disappeared before his eyes appeared on his mind. However, unlike them, he wouldn’t be able to reappear in a single day.

Never for a moment would he assume that a day would come when he had no choice but to cross the familiar ocean he had seen for years. He thought the arenite walls would guard his life and oversee his death. Although his father might’ve sailed the seas at some point, he had never let him on the boat, citing dangers, giant serpentine monsters and all that.

He carefully inspected the ocean, desperately looking for a mass of land at the other side of the waters. Perhaps those small lumps he wished he could find were Iurzemlya.

But he didn’t find such a thing.

Perhaps Iurzemlya was just beyond that line between the skies and the ocean.

Perhaps it really was a faraway place, where people normally wouldn’t reach.

Maybe it wasn’t all that bad. He’d just have to come to the place he was supposed to go. Stay. Make a few acquaintances and conversations. Do whatever to kill time. And perhaps before he knew it, two years would pass.

However, he realised there was another meaning to those two years.

Kashvag had effectively prevented him to rejoin the parliament for the next period, the next election will be held in two years as well. There was no way for him to return in time for the campaign before the election. No campaign was a sure-fire way to lose his position.

He couldn’t have anyone to fill in for his campaign either, as the only one he could think of, Betta, had not has the capacity to deal with politics.

Not to mention the kind of wild rumour that might spread upon his departure, courtesy of Kashvag’s.

Lys’ career in politics might have had sunk and hit the seabed altogether that day.

Losing the advantage of being an incumbent elected prince was the fatal blow. In Serenadian politics, those who somehow failed to keep their seat in parliament could never get elected due to various factors, and losing incumbency was deemed as a symbol of incompetency by the people. Although in theory, those who lose their seat can rerun their candidacy in other elections, to actually able to return as an elected prince was a rather rare case.

Lys had yet to make peace with himself as well.

He still remembered, a nod could result in deaths of many.

Sure, they’d say war is horrible and gruesome. They’d say those without the guts to see the horrors of it would do better to stay away. And so on, and so on. But to truly see how blood splattered like it was natural, that was a different scene altogether.

At that moment Lys thought the prospect of those who could do all that, and yet could as well return to sleep peacefully in the nights and wake normally in the mornings, these people couldn’t be right on their heads.

Lys thought, perhaps the Lord, the Highest, the just Judge, decided that he’d immediately receive his retribution for unlawfully taking others’ lives.

As the scripture said, ‘for in the eyes of the Judge, no war is a just war.’

He didn’t do anything but a nod, an acknowledgement for Mayda to start deploying her archers. Maybe, just maybe, it was why that he could get away just with his titles stripped.

Mayda, certainly, was not so fortunate.

As the tides rose, and the sound of the waves grew louder, Lys sighed.

“Sigh… what am I going to do from now on, old man…?”

No one was there to answer him back.

Since it might be the only chance for him to leave Bravell in all his lifetime,

Perhaps, going to the other side of the world was not that bad after all.

====v====

Loudly, while trusting her head on the gentleman’s shoulder, the lady cried and sobbed.

The crying lady was the self-proclaimed former noblewoman, Lys’ cherished older half-sister. And the gentleman, seemingly expressing a peaceful emotion, was none other than Lys Ravenlicht.

As for why they were in such position, the story goes a few minutes before.

After accepting the fact that he had no choice but to go to the other end of the world, Lys finally had the guts to return home. To his surprise, the moment he returned he’d find his sister in a terrible state, her hair was horribly unkempt, her eyes, bloodshot and dim, her attire, completely disheveled. There were traces of stream of tears over her cheeks. It was easy to tell that she had been deprived of her sleep for at least a few nights.

The first thing Betta did when she caught the glimpse of him was to hug him.

It wasn’t an ordinary hug.

For Lys, it was a hug so ferocious in strength that he never experienced in his whole life. It was nowhere near bone-breaking, but the gesture had effectively told Lys how worried Betta was.

Little did she know he’d be gone for a while longer, two years, in fact.

He thought telling Betta would give him a hard time, and what Betta did make it harder for him. But nonetheless, Lys was feebly smiling. Of course Lys still felt terrible for Betta, but something else mattered more for him. That thing unconsciously made him smiled.

Ever since Yernes died, never for once Betta acted as his sister. She was acting as if she were a distant, completely unrelated, lowly maidservant, doomed forever to serve the house of Ravenlicht

That hug was out of her familial instinct. It was a hug free of whatever burden she had been imposing on herself for the last few years.

Thus, Lys smiled.

When Lys told Betta that the council ended up exiling him for the next two years, she went into a rage. Although she didn’t go and break some stuff, Lys could tell how she felt when he could feel her nails sinking into his skin.

“How could’ve they done this to you?”

“I’ll never accept this. I’ll give them a piece of my mind!”

“I don’t care. I’ll leave. I’m going to Iurzemlya as well.”

Fluidly, those sorts of words came from Betta. Lys did not respond but to shake his head horizontally, it was a trip meant for him and there was no way for him to bring her with him.

Besides, Betta had to stay and maintain the residence and take care of the family enterprise. Both the residence and the enterprise could make it without Lys, but certainly not without Betta.

“You have to stay. These things can’t stay afloat without you.”

She was still sobbing, but nonetheless managed to produce a reply.

“I told you I don’t care. My former master is gone… now you… what if the ship never made it to Iurzemlya? What if there were pirates? What if there were some mistake and the ship lost its way? What if you died in Iurzemlya? Killed by pack of wolves? Fell victim to local bandits? I know it’s constantly cold in Rosenfeld, what if you got sick because of it? If they didn’t like you and conspired to take you down? What if the news never reaches here? … what am I ever going to do without you?”

“You make it sound like heinous things were waiting for me at every turn… they say ‘words are wishes’, so don’t say those words… Wait, when you say ‘former master’, did you mean our father?”

As it was leaning on his shoulder, Betta’s head made a slight movement.

Perhaps it was a nod.

“If father were to hear that from you… Even in his grave, he’d weep you know…”

Yernes would definitely turn in his grave if he were to see his daughter in the state she was in.

What she referred him as would in addition turn him in his grave one hundred times over.

He didn’t know how to calm her down. So gently, Lys caressed Betta’s messy hazel hair with his right hand to fix it, hoping she could work things out. She was indeed older than him, but at times like these, she wasn’t a particularly reliable older sister.

Obviously she didn’t like the idea of losing her only family. Albeit temporarily.

Lys never liked it either. But he was still stupidly smiling peacefully nonetheless.

It was the first day after a long while for him to get his sister back. He knew it wouldn’t last long--- probably Betta would revert and act like a servant again tomorrow morning, therefore, he’d want to savour the feeling.

The siblings didn’t exchange a word after that. Words cannot properly say what Betta was currently feeling. Neither it was for Lys. He didn’t know what Betta was feeling, but it was a comfortable silence for him.

Lys allowed Betta to tire herself out in his embrace. After a long deal of minutes, eventually he’d feel her grip on him weakened--- Betta had succumbed to her exhaustion as she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Still without a word, serenely, Lys carried his slumped sister back to her chamber.

====v====

The wind was blowing rather strongly that night. At that time, there, at the docks, were a man and a woman. They were the Ravenlicht siblings, who were about to be separated for at least two years anytime soon.

Despite he was given a week to leave, Lys decided to make haste and at the fourth day after his sentencing, he was finally bound to leave for Iurzemlya that night. A merchant vessel his sister prepared was lying in wait, all the ship needed to start sailing now was for Lys to get abroad.

After her burst of emotion when Lys returned to Ravenlicht estate, Betta had returned to her passive and subservient attitude later that morning. She was the one who prepared the trip for Lys, and decided the vessel that’d bring Lys to the southern continent should be one of his late father’s enterprise’s trading vessels.

Betta told Lys that Kashvag had prepared an overcrowded and disagreeable boat that might sink any moment for Lys at the day of his departure. At that week, there happened to be an enterprise trading ships which was scheduled to head for Hexagrund, a port city in Iurzemlya. Betta asked the council whether Lys was allowed to travel with his own vessel, the council pretty answered that they didn’t care. Of course, Betta would choose her safer alternative to take his younger brother abroad.

One thing that Betta lamented, however, was that Hexagrund itself was not the ideal port city to reach the Archduchy of Rosenfeld. It was located on the northeastern tip of the southern continent, and the capital of Rosenfeld was on its southwestern side. Lys would have to travel at least half of the continent to reach the archduchy, which would, on a horse or a carriage, most likely take a month.

Betta, however, said that it was better than what the council had prepared for him. The boat Kashvag prepared was bound for Raule, another port city, which was even farther from the archduchy. Not to mention that the boat would make a stop before it would reach its final destination. Had Lys were to go along with the council’s plan for him, it’d take him six months to reach Rosenfeld.

Betta saved him from such ordeal, and he’d be able to reach his destination in a mere two months instead. One month on the sea, the other on land.

“… I’m truly sorry it has to be Hexagrund,” Betta said apologetically while handing him a covered basket and two scrolls, “The archduchy actually has their own port, I believe it was called Shian… But it appears all Serenadian vessels had been denied entry for the decades, ours might not be an exception…”

“You don’t have to mind it, Betta… two months are far shorter than six. You really saved me there… what are these scrolls?”

The scrolls were sealed with official Serenadian seal.

Previously, he had received a scroll from the council, stating his mission in Iurzemlya. To sum up, it was an order for him to secure a trade deal with the archduchy over a list of commodities, consisted of items he never knew before. He was ordered to secure Serenadian interests in Rosenfeld by assisting them in any way they require. The letter was pretty much that.

“Could these be, yet more orders?”

“No,” Betta shook her head horizontally, “These, sir, are introduction letters. Apparently those irresponsible people in the council did not tell you that without these, you have no way to identify yourself and you may be denied access to the Archduchess of Rosenfeld, its current lord.”

‘Haha… Kashvag really does hate me, huh.’ Lys mumbled. He couldn’t believe how thorough Kashvag was to place all of these inconveniences for him. First was the boat, then this.

“These letters were written by Lady Min Taknash, my connection in the council.” Betta added, “She felt that your exile was unlawful and it was a plain abuse of power. An elected prince couldn’t be treated like that… But she couldn’t resist Lord Kashvag’s influence over the council either, so she said nothing when he arbitrarily decided to ban you, sir, from the council.”

“No, I get her point.”

Even Sinod, who outwardly seemed to be an opposition to Kashvag, couldn’t do a thing when Kashvag decided on an issue.

This Lady Taknash, as far as he could remember, was one of the hereditary princesses. She was one of the rare neutral members and supported neither Kashvag nor Sinod. Being in the neutral faction, he knew she did not have the power to argue against what Kashvag said.

“According to what Lady Taknash had told me, currently, Serenadia has no envoy assigned to Rosenfeld for the last six months. The last envoy is still in Iurzemlya, and now currently acts as the envoy to the Hexagrund Communion instead… Her name is Lady Haluna of Himskarr. She’ll be the one receiving you once you arrive in Hexagrund. Please give her one of these introduction letters when you arrive.”

“But… why would she resign?”

“That, sir, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

What an ominous words to say.

For a country like Serenadia, it was odd to leave a country without envoy. It was essential for Serenadia to trade with any countries possible. More varieties of commodities mean more trades, thus more incoming tax. From what he had read, Rosenfeld had a lot of commodities unavailable in Serenadia. It should’ve had been one of its crucial trading partner.

Despite of that, they had yet to assign anyone since the last envoy resigned from her post six months ago. Lys was starting to suspect he was sent there because no one else wanted to.

Moreover, Rosenfeld was turning down Serenadian ships from entering its port. They may have their reasons, but whatever it was, Lys thought the relationship between Serenadia and Rosenfeld must’ve been anything but cordial.

“The other letter is for the Archduchess. But if it’s impossible to give it to her, Lady Taknash said it would be fine to pass it to the archduchess’ adviser instead. Another merchant fleet of ours had left Bravell for Hexagrund two days prior, and through it I have sent a letter to Lady Himskarr to inform her your estimated date of arrival. All you’d have to do is to give the introduction letter and she’ll escort you to Rosenfeld.”

“I see, thank you, Betta, You really did a lot, I’m really grateful.”

“Not at all. It is my duty.”

Betta gave a short bow as Lys checked the contents of the covered basket.

It was filled with bottles of sea beers. There was about thirty bottles of them.

“Betta, who gave you these?”

Lys knew who gave Betta his favorite beverage, or at least, he had a hunch of who it might be. But he decided to ask anyway.

“I’m afraid I didn’t know his name, sir. He didn’t tell me his name… but he told me he was a friend of yours. He knew you are going to leave Bravell for the next few years, and this was, quoting him, ‘a take-care-on-the-road gift’…”

“Isn’t it okay? I mean you didn’t even know his name. Seeing how far the council went to get rid of me, this could be poison…”

“I have checked the contents beforehand. I drank one bottle. It’s safe.”

“………..”

She just said something outrageous there.

But Lys wasn’t in the mood to retort. It was good that it wasn’t poison. The thoughtful sender, then, as Lys thought, was the Keep. He must’ve had caught on with the news. Lys hadn’t stopped by the North Star recently and he must’ve asked around.

As expected from one of Lys’ few friends in the town.

Carefully, he inserted the scrolls into the basket. He felt that he was lingering for far too long. He knew that the longer he lingers, the harder it was for Betta. He decided to give his good-bye now.

“Well then… I’m leaving.”

That was when he realised the corners of Betta’s eyes were watery.

“Are you holding back your tears?”

“Yes. I am.”

It was a short answer. Before she apologised about Hexagrund earlier, Betta hadn’t said a word to Lys today. She was very silent in the estate and in the carriage that brought them to the piers, too.

“It’s not healthy to hold them back, you know?”

Surprisingly, Betta responded with a smile.

“You’re going for a vacation, sir. It’d be wrong to send you with tears.”

So she went with a smile.

Perhaps to cope with her emotions, she’d thought that Lys was going for a vacation. Lys smiled back to his sister. If she were to think Lys was there for a vacation, then for Lys, a vacation it’d be.

“A long vacation it is then! I assure you, no more politics for me when I return, maybe I’ll just focus on dealing with the enterprise, you don’t mind if I intrude your work, right, Betta?”

“Not at all, it’d be my pleasure.”

It was her brightest smile yet.

Lys nodded, and said his final word.

“Thanks, sis. I’ll be back in a while. Please take care of the house.”

“I certainly will. Please be safe on your trip, sir.”

She gave him a bow to send him off.

Lys turned to the other way and started to walk to the vessel.

On the piers, a few crews had been expecting him and shown him the way. As he got on board, the captain who had been waiting for him ordered the crews to immediately set sail.

“Arrrr! Our man is here! Raise the anchors, hoist the sails! TO HEXAGRUND, YE SCURVY DOGS!” the captain shouted.

The anchors were raised, and the sails were hoisted. Slowly but surely, the ship started to separate itself from the piers as the winds pushed the boat southward, steadily taking the ship to Iurzemlya.

Lys stole a glance back.

There, Betta was still bowing.

It was dark, and Lys couldn’t be sure, but he could’ve sworn he saw big droplets of tears falling.