[Lavinia’s Pov—Dawnspire Wing—lavinia’s Chamber]
It was damn hard to convince Papa to let walk out of the imperial palace. Honestly, if I didn’t use my most serious "responsible face," I think he would’ve just locked in the tower like so fairy-tale princess.
But this wasn’t about adventure—this was about duty. My duty. I was in charge of the empire’s food supplies, so if a rat was sabotaging us, then it was my solemn responsibility to catch that criminal with my own two hands.
"Alright, Sera..." I twirled dramatically in my commoner’s dress, skirts fanning out like I was about to star in a village festival play. "Do I look like a normal lady of the empire now? Just... ordinary. Blending in. Nothing suspicious at all."
Sera tilted her head, smiling in that way that told she was definitely thinking sothing strange. "Yes, yes, Your Highness. Perfectly normal. Except you still sparkle too much."
Before I could protest, Osric walked over, holding a rough brown cloak.
"Yes, yes, Lavi. You look... beautiful." Without asking, he draped it around my shoulders and pulled the hood low over my head. His fingers brushed lightly against my cheek as he adjusted it, and he murmured in that calm, maddeningly steady voice of his, "Now let’s just go before His majesty changes his mind."
I nodded in agreent. "Right! Papa can change his mind very fast!"
Sera clasped her hands behind her back and bead at us like a mischievous little fox. "Please cover yourselves well, my lord too. The both of you are... less human."
"Less... human?" I blinked.
Osric froze mid-step, one hand still on my hood, then slowly turned to stare at her. "...Your new lady-in-waiting likes to speak in riddles."
I sighed, nodding as if I’d carried this burden for centuries. "I am used to it. Completely used to it."
Osric chuckled under his breath, tightened the cloak neatly around , then stepped back with a satisfied smirk. "Now, we’re ready. Let’s move before—"
"Papa changes his mind!" I blurted, nodding frantically.
"Exactly."
Before following Osric, I glanced back at Sera. "Please take care of Marshi and Solena while I’m gone. And make sure Marshi doesn’t burn the curtains this ti."
"Leave it to , Your Highness!" Sera waved her arms dramatically, like I was marching off to battle instead of sneaking out. "And rember—cover your faces! Don’t stand out! You both sparkle too much when you’re together!"
GASP!
I clutched my chest. "What?! Sera!"
Osric calmly tugged my hood lower, covering almost half my face. "She’s not wrong, Lavi."
My jaw dropped. "But—"
"Let’s go," he interrupted smoothly.
***
[Elorian Empire—Commoner District]
The streets of the commoner valley were buzzing with noise—hawkers shouting about bread, children darting between carts. To everyone else, it was just another normal day.
I tugged on Osric’s sleeve and whispered, "Did Sir Aldric leave the imperial palace already?"
He leaned in, his hand resting lightly at my back, lowering his voice. "Yes. He’s disguised as a driver. He’ll circle the area until we give the signal."
I nodded. "Alright."
Behind us, Damien—one of the Everheart knights—stood like a stiff statue before muttering under his breath, "I feel like a third wheel here..."
My cheeks puffed up imdiately, and I tried to move away from him, but he held tighter.
Osric’s sharp glare silenced Damien.
"Focus," Osric said. "The driver’s contacts usually gather near this district. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch soone making the drop."
We didn’t even have to search long. The imperial carriage rolled steadily down the cobbled street, its wheels creaking faintly. Sir Aldric sat stiff at the driver’s seat, cap pulled low, looking every bit the weary coachman.
"There he is," Damien muttered, sharp eyes narrowing.
But before the carriage could reach the square, a man with a round belly and sweat-streaked face waddled into the street, raising a hand. He didn’t shout, didn’t wave—just pressed his thumb to the side and tilted it toward a shadowed alley.
My breath hitched. "Is... is that the contact?"
"Seems so." Osric’s voice was low, dangerously calm behind .
Without hesitation, Aldric flicked the reins, turning the carriage obediently into the narrow alley. The sunlight vanished the mont the wheels touched the shadows.
I tugged my hood lower. "Let’s go."
We followed, steps quiet against the stone. Damien’s armor clinked faintly, but Osric’s presence was like smoke—silent, heavy, watchful.
When we reached the mouth of the alley, I pressed my back to the wall and peeked inside.
Five n were waiting. Two lounged against the crates stacked to the side, another perched on a barrel, and the round-bellied man strode forward with an air of authority.
"You can go now," one of them said gruffly to Aldric. "We’ll handle everything from here."
Aldric’s eyes flicked, just briefly, in our direction. My heart pounded. I gave the smallest nod, and he dipped his head in return, stepping down from the seat with the perfect imitation of a servant’s deference before slipping out of the alley.
The fat-bellied man clapped his hands once. "Now. Quickly. Take it all out and replace the goods. No mistakes this ti."
Two n moved toward the carriage, pulling back the tarpaulin. I could see wooden crates underneath, stamped with the imperial crest.
Damien’s hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, knuckles white. His voice was low, but urgent. "They’re... switching the cargo, Your Highness. Should we seize them now?"
I narrowed my eyes at the n heaving crates like common dockhands. "Not yet," I whispered, my breath hitching in my throat. "If we’re patient, if we wait just a little longer... the true snake—the noble backing all this—might slither out into the open."
Damien exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly itching for action, but he held his ground.
Monts stretched. Aldric had already lted into the shadows at the alley’s edge, vanishing from sight. The smugglers grunted and cursed as they worked, crates scraped against stone, horses snorted nervously. Still, no sign of anyone else.
Finally, Osric leaned down beside , his voice a calm blade at my ear. "Lavi... I don’t think any noble will show. Rats like these don’t trust daylight. If we wait longer, we risk them slipping away." His hand brushed mine briefly, firm, grounding. "We should take them. Now."
I clenched my fists. He was right. My chest tightened with a mix of nerves and determination. "Alright," I breathed, my voice steadying. "Let’s catch them in the act."
Osric gave Damien a curt nod, and in the next heartbeat, the trap was sprung.
"Seize them!" Damien’s voice cracked like a whip.
Steel rang as his blade left its sheath, gleaming even in the dim alley. He charged forward, a wall of armored fury. Osric moved like a shadow slipping free from the dark, cutting off the exit before the smugglers even realized they were surrounded.
"What the—?!" one man yelped, dropping a crate with a thud.
Another reached for a hidden knife, but Osric’s boot slamd into his chest, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
I stepped forward from the mouth of the alley, lifting my chin. My voice cut through the chaos—sharp, clear, and impossible to ignore.
"Tch. Can’t believe we couldn’t catch the one backing you up."
The n froze. Their eyes widened, faces draining of color as recognition dawned.
"Pri—princess!!" one of them stamred, nearly dropping the sack he held.
I exhaled slowly, shaking my head as if their stupidity alone exhausted . "Charge them for treason," I said flatly, my tone leaving no room for rcy.
In an instant, armor glinted all around them. Damien surged forward like a storm, his blade at the throat of the fat-bellied ringleader. Aldric erged from the shadows with a wolfish grin, seizing another smuggler by the collar and slamming him against the carriage wheel. From the far end of the alley, more knights shed their commoner disguises, steel flashing as they closed the trap tight.
The smugglers’ curses and shouts quickly turned into desperate cries as they were forced to the ground. The fat-bellied man’s voice cracked as Damien twisted his arm behind his back.
"W-wait! You don’t understand—!"
"Quiet," Damien growled, shoving his face into the dirt. "You’ll have all the ti in the dungeons to explain yourself."
Aldric kicked away a crate of contraband, smirking. "Rats caught red-handed. Couldn’t have planned it better."
I stepped closer, letting my gaze sweep over the bound n. Their faces were pale, twisted in fear, so still trembling.
"Pathetic," I muttered under my breath. Then, louder, so they could all hear: "You tried to poison the Empire from the shadows... and you thought you’d never be caught. But rember this—no cri, no matter how carefully hidden, escapes from the imperial family."
Their shoulders sagged under the weight of my words, as if the very alley itself had beco a prison.
"Take them," I ordered.
Damien and the others moved swiftly, dragging the n out one by one as the disguised knights ford a tight formation around the captives. Aldric gave a sharp nod, pride flickering in his eyes.
At last, the alley was silent again—save for the faint clatter of chains.
"I’ll check the goods," Osric said, moving toward the abandoned crates.
I nodded, though my chest tightened with disappointnt.
I wanted to catch the one truly responsible... the noble pulling the strings.
My hand curled into a fist.
But I failed.
"OUCH!"
My head snapped around instantly.
"Osric?" My eyes widened as I saw blood trickling down from his large hand, dripping steadily onto the dirt.
I rushed to him without thinking, heart pounding. "What—how did this happen?" I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand closer, panic bubbling in my chest.
He winced but gave a crooked, sheepish smile. "It’s nothing. Just an accident—"
"Accident?" My voice cracked, sharper than I intended. "Osric, this could be dangerous! You could get an infection. We need to treat it imdiately—maybe even a tetanus injection!"
He blinked at , tilting his head. "Tetanus? What’s that, Lavi?"
I glared at him, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. "Is that really important right now?!" My grip on his hand tightened as if by holding him I could stop the bleeding itself. "You could catch sothing serious from this! A blood infection—do you want your arm to rot off?!"
I darted a glance around the alley, desperate. "There has to be so kind of clinic or healer nearby..." I muttered under my breath, scanning the streets. My chest ached at the thought of him being in pain.
Osric’s gaze softened. His broad fra remained still as he let fuss over him, his cheeks faintly flushed.
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