Crescent moon in a world of daylight

Wednesday came without the somberness of catapulting rain. The very scene that occurred the other day forgotten in the gentle breeze running through my hair. The heresies of love ripping apart in the due morning sun- the choice to freedom- that is my selfishness. Forsaking all further thoughts of sacrifice, I trot my large luggage in the mind consuming silence and set into the carriage stop.

Irregardless of how important my nation is- This cage is too much. Such frightening killing intent, such rain of blood, who would be the next victim to his blade? If he wants to play run and catch with someone using the blood of others as torchlight and bells, he better finds another girl, hopefully a willing one. It does not matter that an entire nation is under his foot, it does not matter that he kills for me, rather the way he looks at me- its horrendous. Like a reptile slithering around its prey, I can feel his obsession leave choke marks my neck.

"Escaping so obviously? My lady, you sure are skilled in being caught." A familiar voice, like the aftermath of a snowstorm, forlorn for chaos and with splotches of dispersed cold hit my ears. I look to the right amidst the trees to find a man dressed in a purple great coat, and a waistcoat of the same color that contrast his white shirt. One second was all it took for me to be transfixed, that red hair in the shimmering sun, like strands of fire lighting up.

'Caught?' At his warning I turn around only to find an empty road, the shade from the trees comforting and the shadows bereft of human presence. 'There can't be anyone here right?' I calm myself down, the weight of the small yet heavy chest in my hands increasing my anxiety. Bringing clothes at this hour to a carriage spot, if the emperor knew, I am dead.

A bead of sweat rolls down my chin, I consider bolting and running in this instance, in case he is the one sent by emperor Joaquin. "I am quite unsure of what you're talking about. As you know I am an envoy, however, I received a letter of my mother's illness yesternight. Caught in so much worry, I had no choice but to set out the instance the gate is opened. My leave is legitimate, my lord, not the heart throbbing escape you're talking about."

This excuse is foolproof. He doesn't even know my name or status before, and even if he did, everything I said except for my mother's condition is right. There is never a rule halting envoy's from leaving. Never. Otherwise it'll be imprisonment and a way to incite war. So, I am quite confident, head held high and breaths even.

That is until, the man in front of me let out a scroll and opened it. Purplish blue eyes and heart shaped lips. That mole under the right eyes. And most terrifyingly, waist length black hair. The spitting image of me painted on paper under the word wanted. "You- what is this painting? I have not committed any sort of crime! Tell me, what crime did I commit to be worth of 48 small gold coins, 12 time the annual wage of a skilled tradesmen and half of a baron's wage?"

Just thinking of all the things I could have bought with that money, I almost feel regretful that the person they plan on capturing is me. Otherwise I would have reported them and enjoyed all those gallons of wine and meat and dresses and horses. Go to university by bribing them with money or pretending to be a man or just filling my library with 343 books.

But, there is a reason dreams are called dreams.

"You know that best." The man leaned on my shoulders and wrapped his hand around my neck as if he's about to snap it. Then, one arrow was shot from the shadows, nearly hitting him but missing by a bit- too close for comfort for me to think it is not intentional- When I start to think blood was about to be shed, he took out a leaf from within my hand and waved it to the figure faraway. The bloodlust in the air instantly receding.

The man looks back at the arrow that lands on a place I could not see. The piercing power behind that shot frightening. No doubt, a hole would've formed on this man's head, or wherever it is aimed at. "Heh, to have either Vranid 1 or Vranid 7 watching over you. I'd think you are faking that innocence or planning it even."

I instantly hold my chest closer to me, nodding to the direction of the shooter. In face of such a situation, I can only be respectful lest I be turned into a hedgehog. My plan is to return immediately, and I turn around to the direction of the guard, however is pulled back by one strong pull. The bloodlust in the air returning following the release of my arm.

The contact was short, but being tugged around by men constantly annoyed me, and in my frustration, I snap at him. Its not as though I am anyone's toy, what right do they have to do this to me? "I assure you, none of this was my will. I do not even know who Vranid 1 or Vranid 7 is. In the first place, who are you? And how did you get that painting of me?"

As if waiting centuries for me to say that, the man in front of me smiled, that crescent eyes of his. Like a misty night and a sea of stars, I couldn't discern his nature or true emotions. Except the fact that he was supposedly overjoyed, "I thought death would befall me before you asked that. The name is Ludwig Gunther, young Duke of Eldevider. Pleasure to meet you, my lady… or should I say, your highness Athaliah?"