“Indeed. I must insist that your people come to Afiele, Princess Seraphel. They can be safe until a larger escort can be arranged. When news of this assault reaches the capital, I am certain His Majesty will send a relief army. And the Twins will no doubt ride upon Afiele just as quickly!”

Seraphel blinked. Lord Lantal hesitated.

“…Yes. Fallien of Ovela, the Earl, and his twin sister, Piral of Ovela. The Earl of Evening and the Countess of the Morning. Afiele is among the territories under their domain. I apologize—the Twins is how many refer to them. The Twins of Ovela.”

“I see.”

Her husband and sister-in-law would no doubt ride to her aid. A fine way to meet them.

Seraphel’s heart sank. She glanced at Lord Lantal and then nodded slowly.

“Of course. And we shall accept your kind hospitality, Lord Lantal. I regret that I know little of Afiele or Noelictus. Of course, more about the throne, but I find myself in your debt! Please, if you will allow us your hospitality—”

She was smiling at the man as he redoubled his efforts to assure her she was now safe. That was when Seraphel heard a voice calling his name.

“Lantal? Is it safe?”

A group of eight people rode down the road, staring at the dead bodies. A woman, her [Guards]—and a boy and girl whose eyes she was shielding. Lantal turned and Seraphel saw his eyes light up with protective worry.

“It’s not safe, Risel! Culin, Sasi, shield your gazes. It was an ambush…”

He strode towards them, and Seraphel sighed. She hadn’t known this detail, but it was obvious at a glance. There went Lord Lantal, to speak to his wife, Lady Risel of Afiele and his son and daughter, six and nine respectively.

Alas. Seraphel kicked at the ground, and then stomped back to her carriage. She looked back at the man.

Not the most handsome of men, or tallest, or strongest. Certainly not the richest; he was wearing leather, mildly enchanted, probably an heirloom of his family.

But for a second she’d dreamed of a chance meeting. A bit of fate to throw her together. Seraphel returned to the coach and stared out the window.

A storybook meeting and happy romance wasn’t for her. In a world of magic and classes and Skills—

there was still no magic. She closed her eyes and sighed.

——

Seraphel didn’t see the [Lord]’s shoulders sag, or the worried look on Lady Risel’s face as they turned to watch the attacked Calanfer delegation.

The [Lord] stepped over to the riders just in time for his son and daughter to begin howling. His wife, in her early thirties, tried to soothe them while she whispered urgently to him.

“Lantie. Is that the [Princess] of Calanfer?”

“Yes, Ris. One of them.”

“What do we do?”