After spending a quiet night at the inn—and getting properly scolded by the driver for waking up late—we were back on the road.
The morning air was crisp, the sunlight gentle.
Inside the carriage, we quietly munched on the packed breakfast: soft white bread spread with fresh butter.
Darcy sat beside me, resting her head on my shoulder again, while Sarah hummed a tune under her breath. Aunt Lindy looked out the window with a faint smile.
The road passed through open fields, hills rolling like waves.
We stopped at a small park for lunch—some boiled eggs, rice cakes, and herbal juice. The grass was warm. We sat under a tree, not saying much, just enjoying the breeze.
Now, only 10 kilometers remained before we reached Solin the sun was about to set down .
Compared to Libas, Solin felt like a promise.
A village without nobles. A place where the tax was almost nothing—barely 1%. Isolated, peaceful, free from the rotten power games.
A peaceful life waiting for me ,
---
Far from Solin, deep within the stone halls of Quad Academy,
Prince Clinton Zadberg stood silently. His eyes moved over the letter in his hand—short, but sharp like a dagger.
> "23 nobles have died this month, killed publicly by Prince Clinton Zadberg.
A committee has been formed to investigate this matter. It will report directly to the King.
If Prince Clinton is found guilty, he will be imprisoned."
Clinton's grip on the letter tightened until it tore in half.
"Hmph… Those bastards were criminals," he muttered, voice low and dangerous. "Why should I be punished for cleaning up the trash?"
Fury burned in his chest. He stormed toward the exit of his room, ready to cool off in the market—but two royal guards blocked his way.
"Prince Clinton," one said firmly, "you are not allowed to leave. If you need anything, we'll get it for you."
Clinton paused.
Then slowly… he laughed.
A slow, bitter laugh that turned into a full-on howl.
"Hahahaha… So this is how it is now?"
He raised his hand—ready to summon his power. But before the energy could even gather, his knees gave out. His body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
The guards didn't flinch.
"It worked," one of them said calmly, watching the unconscious prince.
"I really thought I was going to die today," the other replied, exhaling in relief.
Their eyes shifted to Clinton's still body.
"His whole personality has changed. Just a month ago, he was calm, quiet, even polite."
"Now look at him… angry at everything. Cold. Violent. It's like he's possessed."
They didn't say it out loud, but the truth lingered in the air.
Prince Clinton Zadberg had become a problem for the nobles .
And someone wanted him gone—quietly, permanently.
Nightfall.
Finally, after two long days of bumpy roads, dust, heat, and not enough sleep—we reached Solin.
Just like Erika said, it was supposed to be a quiet, isolated place. No nobles. No politics. A peaceful corner of the world.
That's what I expected.
But reality?
I stepped down from the carriage, and my jaw nearly dropped.
In front of me, tens—no, hundreds—of nobles were pouring out of the city gates. Men and women dressed in expensive robes, jewelry that could feed a village, laughter echoing like they didn't have a care in the world.
They were boarding shiny carriages—at least fifty of them, lining up like a royal parade. One by one, they left in the opposite direction from where we came.
"What… the hell?"
Darcy stood beside me, eyes wide.
Sarah tilted her head, confused.
Lindy furrowed her brows.
And the worst part?
The driver was gone. We had already paid him. He vanished like he was never here.
I took a deep breath and walked up to the guard near the gate—armor polished, spear resting on his shoulder.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm a traveler—and an informant for the House of Revelle. Here's the emblem."
I pulled the small silver emblem from my pocket. Erika had handed it to me, saying "Just in case."
The guard's eyes lit up.
"Oh! House of Revelle, of course! Welcome, sir. How can I assist you?"
I forced a smile. "I was told Solin was isolated… a commoner's village with no noble presence. House Revelle was interested in starting trade here—under that impression."
The guard gave an apologetic smile. "Ah, sir… seems like your information's a bit outdated. Just a week ago, Solin was changed. It's now under noble regulation. Commoners are still allowed—but only those who work under nobles, like yourself."
"What about the people who used to live here?"
He looked away, clearly not comfortable.
"They've been… relocated. Not sure where, sir. We just follow orders. But please, you're welcome here. I can even get you a room arranged."
I nodded slowly. "Let me think for a second."
I turned and walked back to the group.
Darcy, Lindy, and Sarah stood under the pale lantern light. Their faces said it all.
I explained everything. Word by word.
The new nobles. The forced relocation. The guard's offer. The fact that we were suddenly in a place we no longer understood.
And worst of all?
No ride back. No allies. Surrounded by nobles.
Sarah was the first to speak. "...So we're screwed."
Darcy crossed her arms. "I knew it was too quiet on the way here."
Aunt Lindy just muttered, "This feels wrong. Really wrong."
I looked up at the gate again, at the luxurious lights glowing behind it.
We came here for peace.
Now we were fucked .