Shadow Oath

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Chapter 29: The Duke’s Daughter (2)

A flag-bearer bearing the colors of Born approached swiftly, with the vanguard cavalry entering the allied camp.

"Form ranks, everyone!"

Lieutenant Aedun shouted, and thirty knights promptly lined up on either side of the road.

Despite being only a squire who had yet to be knighted, Aedun was leading both the Terdin cavalry and the royal knights, his expression brimming with pride.

It didn’t take long for the Born cavalry to reach the formation Aedun had prepared.

At a glance, there were two men at the forefront who seemed to hold high ranks, flanking a woman riding in the center.

‘Is she the prince’s fiancée?’

He had expected her to wear a fancy dress, but instead, she was clad in a leather cuirass reinforced with iron plates over her chest, thick leather boots, and gloves gripping the reins.

The only distinguishing feature from the men’s armor was her white-and-red-painted helmet adorned with extravagant feathers.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

“Oh dear. An unexpected individual is among the group,”

Terdin lamented, sounding somewhat upset.

Lieutenant Aedun had already stepped forward to arrange the ranks, so there was no one by Terdin’s side except for Ram.

Thinking the comment might have been directed at him, Ram waited for further clarification.

‘Unexpected? Who is he talking about?’

It was probably one of the two men beside the woman, but with their helmets on and being unfamiliar faces, it was hard to guess whom Terdin was referring to.

The slow-moving Prince Damion finally stood behind General Terdin.

As usual, his movements were sluggish.

Perhaps influenced by Jedrick’s comment that a refusal might sound like a proposal, the prince seemed to have decided to act coldly, hoping the other side would withdraw first.

The two hundred-strong Born cavalry finally met with Lieutenant Aedun.

After a respectful greeting, Aedun explained something to the three figures at the front before escorting them toward Terdin.

“Hmm? Isn’t that the general’s son?”

Damion murmured indifferently.

“Yes, my son, Astian,”

Terdin replied.

“And the one at the very front… judging by the armor, that must be Rusef.”

“That seems right. While Born has its own commander of knights, he must have taken charge himself since it involves bringing his sister back.”

“It’s impressive. After being held hostage for years, to come back to the royal family again… If it were me, I’d lock myself up at home and never look back,”

Damion said, his tone ambiguous—somewhere between praise and sarcasm.

“And the one beside him… perhaps…”

Damion squinted, trailing off.

Terdin finished for him.

“That lady must be Charlon Vormont.”

A moment later, Rusef, Astian, and Charlon approached Terdin.

Terdin naturally greeted them and introduced Prince Damion, who, despite his earlier grumbles, warmly welcomed them.

“Rusef! It’s been a while. I wondered where you’d disappeared to, but it’s good to meet again like this.”

Rusef removed his helmet.

Beneath it was a strikingly handsome young man with unique green hair cascading to his cheeks and a prominent nose.

He returned the greeting with a bright smile.

“My apologies for leaving without saying goodbye. Everything was decided so abruptly that I had no chance to inform you.”

“I thought Born had its own commander of knights. Why did you personally lead the forces?”

“I had to ensure my sister’s safety myself!”

“Well, that’s inconvenient. If it were an outsider from Born, we wouldn’t have to do anything. But now that Commander Rusef Vormont is here, we’ll have to provide endless drinks! Unfortunately, there’s not much liquor in the battlefield.”

“I anticipated that and brought enough for ten days!”

The prince burst into laughter, and Rusef joined him.

Beside him, another man quietly removed his helmet, greeted the prince with a nod, and stepped toward Terdin.

He had brown hair tinged with gray, brown eyes, a sharp chin, and a lean, gentle face.

He looked to be about twenty or twenty-one, appearing weary from the long journey yet somewhat gloomy.

“It’s been a while, Father.”

“I didn’t expect you to come, Astian.”

“When Rusef was sent back to Born, someone had to accompany him. I volunteered, knowing you were busy. I didn’t have time to inform you.”

“I figured as much. We’ll talk more later.”

“Yes, Father.”

Despite the long time since they last met, neither showed much enthusiasm.

Compared to the lively exchanges between Rusef, Damion, and others, the atmosphere between father and son was subdued, almost lifeless.

Ram wondered if this was how fathers and sons were supposed to be.

Finally, Charlon removed her helmet.

A cascade of emerald-green hair spilled out like a waterfall, flowing over the cloak draped across her back.

Despite the long journey and the confines of the helmet, her hair gleamed as if it were an enchanted jewel, glinting with sunlight.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I am Charlon Vormont.”

In that moment, Ram understood what Terdin had meant earlier.

‘The prince won’t be able to refuse.’

Charlon was stunningly beautiful.

Despite her armor and the grime from the journey, her beauty was striking.

Ram could only imagine how radiant she would appear after washing up, donning a dress, and adorning herself with jewelry and makeup.

Damion stared at Charlon with a blank expression, failing to even offer a polite greeting in return.

Ram grew anxious, fearing the prince might utter the refusal he had discussed with Jedrick right then and there.

Charlon glanced at Rusef, her expression questioning whether she had said something wrong.

Rusef, equally puzzled, broke the silence.

“Your Highness?”

Sensing the awkward moment, Terdin spoke first.

“Since our guests must be tired from their long ride, perhaps Your Highness could personally guide them to the encampment?”

Only then did Damion speak.

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“Oh, forgive me. I was momentarily lost in thought admiring the color of your hair. Please pardon me.”

Damion spoke stiffly and then turned his horse around.

“Follow me. I shall personally guide you to the camp, Lady Charlon.”

With that, he left alone, leaving Charlon looking bewildered at Rusef.

“Let’s go,”

Rusef said, shrugging his shoulders and spurring his horse to follow Damion.

Charlon followed her brother closely.

‘What’s gotten into him?’

Damion’s face held a coldness unlike his usual demeanor.

His familiar friendliness, even toward low-ranking soldiers, was nowhere to be seen, and the respectful behavior he maintained even after learning of Ram’s slave origins was absent.

Perhaps her beauty had unsettled him, making him angrier because rejecting her would be even harder.

The realization that he was being used by his father might have fueled his frustration further.

As General Terdin had pointed out, the prince had no choice but to accept this engagement.

To refuse now would mean turning back the entire cavalry and rendering this beautiful pair of siblings’ journey futile.

The kind-hearted prince would likely accept the marriage out of consideration for them.

That thought might be weighing heavily on him at this moment.

“I’ll lead the cavalry forward, Father,”

Astian said.

“Follow the Lieutenant,”

Terdin replied curtly, issuing instructions like he would to any subordinate.

What was going on with those two?

Was there some lingering resentment between that father and son?

With the prince acting that way and the general being so stern, where should he focus?

Ram shifted his attention back and forth, listening to Terdin at the front and Damion behind him.

Charlon’s voice broke through.

“There’s no need to trouble yourself so much, Your Highness. You could have a servant guide us instead—”

Damion cut her off coldly.

“For my future bride, this is hardly an effort. My greater concern is whether you will find the food on the battlefield to your liking. The supply lines are not as smooth as those in a bountiful land like Born, so I must warn you in advance.”

Ram grew worried.

‘Didn’t he practice acting indifferent to show disinterest? But this is overdoing it. He doesn’t have to go that far.’

Charlon also seemed uneasy, frequently casting glances at Rusef for help, though it seemed her brother could do little for her.

General Terdin approached, murmuring to himself.

“I thought I’d grown indifferent to most human affairs and emotions with age, but witnessing this moment up close still stirs me.”

Ram asked, “

What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see it? A young man falling in love at first sight,”

Terdin said, smiling as he slowly followed the three ahead of them.

“What?”

Ram didn’t understand Terdin’s words.

‘Love? In what way?’

It suddenly dawned on Ram that he and Terdin were now alone.

The cavalry’s rapid movement had kicked up a cloud of dust over the plains, momentarily obscuring visibility.

If he were to pull Terdin off his horse and drag him behind a hill, no one would notice.

Overpowering a frail old man would be easy.

The thunder of dozens of horses galloping simultaneously would drown out any screams.

The Lieutenant wouldn’t realize Terdin was dead, preoccupied as he was with his authority and leading the cavalry forward.

The second son, Astian, had already ridden ahead, making him even less aware.

The three ahead were so focused on one another that they didn’t even glance back.

Ram fixed his gaze on the back of the old general’s neck.

It reminded him of the moment she killed Mantum.

Could he sever his neck here on the plains, bring it to King Gallant, and finally rid himself of his slave status forever?

From slave to noble?

At that moment, Terdin spoke without turning to face him.

“I heard you met with His Majesty on your first day. What did he say to you?”

Ram flinched, startled by the sudden question.

It was a good thing he wasn’t looking; otherwise, his reaction would have certainly aroused suspicion.

He steadied herself and responded.

“He asked who killed Mantum and what you were hiding. I told the truth—that I killed Mantum—and said I didn’t know what you might be hiding.”

“And?”

“Count Vadio seems to suspect my identity. He appears to have discovered that I’m a slave and reported it to His Majesty.”

“What about Zenri Selken?”

“He didn’t ask about him.”

“And?”

“That’s all.”

“I see. Good work. Report to me if anything new comes up.”

Terdin, who had started the conversation without looking back, finished it the same way and rode ahead.

Ram watched him go, feeling both relieved and struck by a new realization.

‘I can lie now. Well, I’m not a slave anymore—I’m a free person.’

But it didn’t end there.

He might even become a noble with his own estate.

All he had to do was one thing.

Just one thing…

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