The mountain road swayed. No—it was the cargo wagon that swayed. Each time it crossed the joints in the stone pavement, the iron grating trembled faintly. Beyond that grating, a thin sliver of gray pre-dawn sky was cut out against the darkness. Serena Altis leaned her back against the inside of the grating, hugged her knees, and used her tongue to confirm the object in her mouth. A ring. The silver circlet left by the queen consort—the simple silver band that the attendants called the proof of House Altis—rested between her back teeth and cheek. A strange sensation where the coldness of metal mixed with her own body heat. She suppressed the reflex to swallow several times over. What had happened in that moment of capture? Serena retraced the events. Galen had left to scout ahead. A few minutes of emptiness. When the sound of hoofbeats came from the east side of the mountain road, there was simultaneously a presence of another unit from the west—the Imperial Northern Conquest Legion's encirclement had tightened from both east and west at once. If Galen had been there, perhaps. But he wasn't. Serena had no blade, no luminous crystals, no remaining strength in her legs to flee. When three mounted soldiers seized her, her body moved first. Her fingers moved before her thoughts could catch up. The moment the imperial soldier's eyes turned toward her left hand, she pulled the ring from her ring finger and into her mouth. It wasn't a judgment made as a princess, nor as a commander. It was a movement that came from somewhere deeper—something close to instinct. That fact still caught at her, small and persistent. Serena had no way of knowing where Galen was. She hadn't thought to cry out. She understood both that the man wasn't someone who answered to voices, and that screaming would accomplish nothing in this situation. She was simply pushed inside the iron grating, the door was locked, and the wagon began to move. That was all. She didn't have a precise sense of how long the transport had been underway. The darkness before dawn still continued, so it couldn't have been very long. From the number of hoofbeats surrounding the wagon, the escort seemed to consist of four or five mounted soldiers and several foot soldiers. Given the scale, it was an advance capture unit. If the goal was to rendezvous with the main force, she would be transported to the next encampment or a stronghold along the road. There was a presence in the darkness of the wagon. Serena had been aware of it. From the moment of capture, from the moment she was pushed into the wagon, she knew that something other than herself existed inside this grating. But she hadn't called out. To move only after confirming what the other was—that was the only caution available to her now. The wagon swayed. The vibration of passing over a small stone. A voice came from the darkness. "...Are you unharmed?" It was a voice kept low. But Serena knew that voice quality. She had heard it every morning for three years. Mira Falen. Serena strained her eyes into the darkness. There was a figure deeper inside the grating. Chestnut-colored long hair braided into three strands—or rather, now disheveled, falling over her shoulders. Jade-colored eyes glimmered faintly in the darkness. A small frame of 158 centimeters leaned against the wagon wall. The maid's dress was soiled, its hem torn, but those jade eyes were clear. Not vigilant, not anxious—just eyes observing the situation. Serena didn't return words immediately. Emotion was caught somewhere. She couldn't embrace her, couldn't call her name. But the simple fact that a maid existed in this darkness was slowly loosening something. Loss and relief existed simultaneously without contradiction. Three days since fleeing the royal capital of Eldencia—she had finally faced someone who knew her as a princess. Galen was her contract partner. Throughout these three days, there had always been the distance of transaction between them. But Mira's presence was different. The air of the lost palace lingered here, just a little. "...Are you alive?" Serena asked. Her voice came out lower than she expected. Mira nodded. Once, clearly. Silence continued. From outside came the sound of hoofbeats, the sound of wheels, occasionally brief words from soldiers. Inside the wagon, the two sat facing each other. It was the kind of silence where each was organizing their emotions. Mira spoke first. "I was captured at the Seylan River crossing." Serena knew it. The crossing at Fergen—about sixty kilometers north of Eldencia, a place where she'd heard the imperial army had set up a checkpoint. So Mira, who had attempted to escape, had been captured there. "How long have you been in this wagon?" Serena asked. "Since early afternoon yesterday. I was already here before you were brought in." Serena thought for a moment. That meant Mira had been observing this transport unit since yesterday. Mira continued. Her voice was low but calm. Serena knew that habit of speech—the way her voice would quiet in tense situations. "There are four guards. The shift change interval is—counting from last night—roughly every three hours. The wagon key is worn at the waist of the lead mounted soldier. There are six foot soldiers, two of whom constantly walk behind us. They maintain a distance of about two meters from the wagon." Serena was slightly surprised by the precision of that information. "How did you—" "Conversation," Mira said. Mira's lips moved faintly, very faintly. "The soldiers were bored. If a captured maid spoke to them, they would answer a little. I heard about the key last night during the guard change—one soldier telling another, the next shift holder, to take it. Since this iron grating can only be opened from the outside, knowing who holds the key is very important." Serena silently arranged the information in her mind. Four guards, three-hour shifts, key held by the lead mounted soldier. Two rear foot soldiers, two-meter distance. The grating can only be opened from outside. That meant to escape from inside, external intervention was necessary. It meant not her own power, but someone else's involvement. She couldn't seek that from within this transport unit tonight. "How far to the rendezvous point?" Serena asked. "According to the soldiers, we arrive at the next encampment at dawn. They plan to rendezvous with the main force there." The main force. That meant the transport unit's size would expand dramatically after arrival. Mounted soldiers from four to dozens. Foot soldiers similarly. Once that happened, the possibility of escape would be incomparably lower than now. The window for escape was tonight, before reaching the next encampment. Serena calculated. The night road ahead. Darkness and hoofbeats. The wagon's sway. A lock on the outside of the grating. The key at the lead soldier's waist. Two rear foot soldiers, two meters away. But. The grating was on the outside. There was no move to make from inside. Serena quietly recognized that this bag couldn't be opened by her cunning alone. Outside the wagon, the night wind grew stronger. Cold air descending from the Volg Mountains flowed through the grating's gaps. Night was deepening. The distance to the encampment was shrinking bit by bit. Serena unconsciously clenched her left hand. The ring was in her mouth. She had taken it out and placed it in her palm without Mira noticing, hidden in the grating's shadow. The silver circlet was warm in her hand. For three days during the escape, while it had rested on her ring finger, and now in this wagon, only this weight remained unchanged. Where Galen Lyzen was, Serena didn't know. The mercenary who had vanished the moment they were surrounded—what was he doing now? Had he fled? Or was he making a different judgment? The contract was for escort to Lavaria. But in the current situation, how that contract functioned—Serena still didn't completely understand that man's principles of action. The scorched emblem on the inside of his cloak. Knowledge of imperial patrol patterns. She still didn't understand what those meant. The wagon swayed. Greatly, once. The vibration tilted Serena's body slightly, and she put her hand on the grating. In that moment, something that had accumulated shifted slightly. It wasn't fatigue. The fatigue from the three days since leaving the castle had already settled into the depths of her legs, not something that would surface now. Something else entirely. Not fear, not despair. If she had to put it into words, it would be the accumulation of solitude—continuing to judge as a ruler, suppressing emotion, and yet now inside this grating, facing the fact that there was nothing she could do, all of it gathering together and leaking out just a little. A tremor came from her fingertips. Serena tried to stop it. But trying to stop it only made the rigidity stronger. She gripped the ring in her palm tightly. The metal's edge bit into her skin. The pain was, in a sense, a relief. She could direct her consciousness toward it. But the tremor reached her shoulders. She couldn't hide it. By the time she realized that, it was already too late. Mira moved quietly. She crossed the wagon floor without sound. She sat down beside Serena. At a distance where their arms almost touched. There were no words. She didn't say anything particularly special. She simply came beside her. That was all. Serena didn't turn her gaze. She looked at the dark sky beyond the grating. Mira's body heat transmitted from the side of her arm. The warmth of a small, seventeen-year-old maid. The temperature of the girl who had always walked three steps behind in the palace corridors now existed inside this wagon's grating. Outside the hierarchy of princess and maid. The tremor stilled, just a little. No tears came. There was no sign of them coming. Serena simply held the ring she gripped tightly, the body heat beside her, and the fact that there was nothing she could do right now to resolve this situation. Her cunning had hit a wall. Whether external intervention would come from beyond the grating. There was no way to know. The night road continued. Hoofbeats sounded in rhythm. Each time the wagon swayed, the grating rang. Mira remained silent. She didn't offer unnecessary words. She simply was there. That manner of being was unchanged from how she had been for three years as a maid. The night was deep. The encampment was drawing near. Suddenly, the wagon stopped. It wasn't a smooth stop. It was the kind of stop where the driver had applied the brakes suddenly. A horse cried out. Outside, soldiers shouted briefly. The wagon swayed slightly forward and back, then went still. Serena leaned her face toward the grating. She tried to see what was happening outside, but through the iron grating's gaps, she could only see the dark road, soldiers' legs, and a horse's belly. Mira moved to the opposite side of the grating, looking out the same way. The commotion outside continued. A horse cried out again. Not just one, but several. Soldiers spoke to each other in low voices. The content of their words didn't reach this far. After about a minute, the wagon began moving again. Mira came back toward Serena. Her eyes remained fixed on the world outside the grating as she seemed to be listening intently. Her jade eyes moved slightly. "...Did you hear?" Mira asked. Serena shook her head. Mira leaned close to Serena's ear. Lowering her voice to its absolute limit, she spoke in barely more than breath. "One horse... it escaped." Serena looked out at the grating. At the darkness of the road. At the mountain shadows. At the pre-dawn sky, still without light. One horse had blocked the path and moved away. Coincidence? Or an intentional—position confirmation? Serena couldn't judge. There was no certainty anywhere. Where that man was now, what he was thinking tonight, what a single