“Run, Princess, run!”

Her voice sliced through the panic, and suddenly we were moving.

She dragged me out of the shattered carriage door, our skirts catching on broken wood, and tearing up from the impact. My feet stumbling to keep up at first. I winced as pain shot through my hip, but she didn’t stop and neither could I. 

Behind us, our guards whoever can were following us, and remaining guards clashed steel with the attackers. Horses screamed alongside. Another carriage was overturned in the chaos.

“This way!” Talia yelled, veering off the road into the brush.

Branches scraped our arms as we pushed through the treelined trying to hide in them. The scent of blood and dust clung to the wind. I looked back just once. The enemy were everywhere.

Panic surged within me. My legs locked in place. My hands shook. This wasn’t fiction anymore.

“No,” I breathed. “No, no, no—”

“Princess, move!” Talia barked, yanking me forward again.

I don’t know how long we ran into the forest. I was too stunned to keep track of anything. We weren’t following any direction, just crashing through roots and shadows, desperate to escape. But the enemies weren’t giving up either—I had no idea how many there were, or how long we could possibly hold out. And above all, the heavy dress weighed me down like chains, slowing my every step. Thank god the fabric was already torn and tattered, its weight lessened just enough for me to keep moving.

But even as terror crawled up my spine, something else pushed forward too ; recognition.

I’d read this world. I'd studied every inch of it. I knew the blind corners and fallback points.

I knew what to do, not because I was brave, but because I was a fan. A nerd, a lunatic who had charted THIS WORLD'S maps in her head because romance novels sometimes had war in them too. 

Grabbing the nearest soldier’s sleeve, one who had been fighting to clear the path beside Talia and me.

"Ride the free steed, HURRY !!" I shouted, pointing at the panicked horse that had broken loose earlier from the carriage, reins still dangling. 

The soldier blinked at me, startled. “But—Your Highness—!”

“Don’t argue!” I snapped. “Do it, now!”

"Send word to my brother, tell him to come at the Orchard creek bed! HURRY NOW."

Talia dragged us behind a large tree to hide, a few meters ahead from where our soldiers were still locked in the chaos, clashing steel with the attackers. I turned again and tried to hide in the chaos.

"Haa ......ha" Our breath came in gasps. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear the clash of blades behind me.

They’re too many.

More riders emerged from the trees. Cloaked, masked, efficient. They were not bandits or amateurs. I counted ten, eleven. Maybe more are hidding in the shadows.

“They’re going to take us all,” I whispered.

“Over here! Form a line—protect the Princess!” a guard roared, though his voice was already fraying with panic.

But I knew this forest. Maybe it was the panic, or maybe sheer desperation, but a half-forgotten side episode suddenly clicked in my mind like a door swinging open.

I knew its terrain, its traps, its blind spots. All thanks to a single line in a forgotten side story, where Callisto once chased a assassin to the orchard ridge.

Come on, brain, this is what you’re good at.

I scanned the treelined and shouted loud enough only for the nearest royal guard to hear,

“Force them left! Don’t let them ride the central path, it’s open and fast!”

He blinked in confusion at me. “Left? That leads into—”

“The ridge forks in two just ahead,” I barked. “Left is a dried creek bed which is sunken, full of holes. It rained yesterday. Their horses will have to slow!”

The guard’s eyes widened, but he nodded and bellowed, “You heard her! Drive them left!”

I turned toward Talia and the other women crouched in the shadows with us.

 “We also have to run again, haa....ha......into the creek,” I said quickly. “Once they enter the creek and we’ve slowed them down, don’t cross the creek. Instead, turn right and climb the light slope. Once we’re hidden from their sight, run ahead in the opposite direction. There’s a large ruin there....I know it. We can hide until help arrives. Help the others, don’t leave anyone behind.”

We all moved as per my instructions.

Two guards peeled left with me, circling wide toward the creek bed — a dried-up ravine hidden beneath a curtain of vines and loose soil. It was narrow, uneven, and notoriously hard to ride through. Perfect for slowing them down. Perfect for stalling them until helps arrives. 

Then I ran straight, ducking behind trees, shouting nonsense orders in a perfect imitation of palace command:

“Squad four — FLANK FROM THE RIDGE!”

“Archers, NOW!”

The enemy riders jerked, startled. At least two of them hesitated, scanning the treetops.

Good. Make them think they’re outnumbered. Follow me. Just a little closer.

We reached the creek and moved into it, the ground sucking at our steps with damp resistance. And then one of the horses hit the soft earth wrong and slipped, legs tangling in the uneven dip. 

“Yes—gotcha!” I hissed, a shaky grin breaking through my fear.

The rider cursed, struggling to stay upright as the others slowed to avoid the same fate.

As my plan was working we all  turned and bolted up the slope, heart thundering, lungs burning. I didn’t need to win. I just needed to keep them tangled long enough.

But just as I thought it was going well,

“Renna!” Talia gasped.

I turned mid way and saw her too.

Our youngest maid, delicate and kind, had fallen behind. Her foot was caught in the creek as well, and she was trying to crawl free.

“Renna, get up! Come on!” I screamed.

But she didn’t get the chance. One of the masked soldiers grabbed her.

“AAH…! Leave me, you ****!” she screamed, thrashing wildly.

He swung Renna up onto his horse like she was a sack of grain, her screams muffled by the leathered hand over her mouth. The soldier turned his steed sharply, ready to bolt into the trees. He was circling toward the left trail, the fastest route out of the forest.

No. I can’t let him reach the clearing. If he gets out, she’s gone, maybe forever.

My mind didn’t think, but my body moved back toward the creek. I seized a heavy, uneven stone and threw it downslope, not at the rider, but at the horse’s face. The steed reared in panic, whinnying violently. Already struggling in the creek’s soft earth, the startled beast started to lose its balance. The man cursed, lurching as his grip began to slip.

“Now!” I screamed. “Talia—NOW!”

Talia was near enough , and she was already moving. Like lightning, she snatched Renna from the man’s arms as the girl slipped sideways off the saddle, cushioning the fall as best she could.

“Take her!” I shouted.

Talia didn’t argue. She pulled Renna with her and ran. Renna sobbed, clutching at Talia.

The soldier fallen from horse, staggered upright with fury burning in his eyes.

He turned — and locked onto me.

My breath caught. For a moment, all I could hear was the pound of my heart and the distant echo of hooves. The guards were too far. Talia was gone. Renna was safe for now.

And he was coming for me. Slow at first his steps uneven, boots squelching in the muck but full of purpose. Like a hound that had picked up a scent.

I lifted the sword from nearby which I didn’t know how to use.

At least, that’s what I thought. But just like that my grip shifted without thinking and my stance adjusted on its own. My feet found the earth like they’d done it a thousand times before. The fear was still there clawing at my ribs but beneath it, something steadier bloomed.

Muscle memory.it clicked to me.Not mine, but Elinessa’s. This body… it remembered.

Elinessa had been a princess, yes. But, she's also a trained swordswoman quiet, refined, deadly when needed.

Oh. Oh!!!, I can handle this. This discovery filled me with hope.

I raised the blade, shoulders squaring as the soldier charged toward me, mud-slicked and furious.

“Come on, then,” I whispered. “Just a few more minutes—"

He also raised his blade—

“ELINESSA!!”

Steel flashed in front of me. A blur of blue and black collided with him from the side.

Callisto.

My brother, Crown Prince Callisto  arrived like a blade drawn by fate.

Drenched in ceremonial blues, now soaked in ash, sweat, and someone else's blood, his expression was unreadable but his movements spoke loud enough.

“Hide, now” he ordered coldly, not sparing me a glance as he raised his sword again.

A strike like lightning measured, final, without remorse. In a blur of silver and crimson, he cut through the chaos like it was mere rehearsal.

I ran then, stumbling until I found a safe distance, and hid behind a broken trunk. From there, I watched.

The remaining attackers fell one by one with barely time to scream. 

“Push forward! Leave none standing!” his voice thundered.

Few tried to flee bolting down the slope in desperation. Another, still dazed from falling, was wrenched off his horse and bound by the guards. The rest lay motionless, dead. Bringing a full stop in the middle of chaos. The air fell silent.

And me?

I stood in the middle of it all.

Heaving, shaking. Gripping a sword I didn’t remember lifting.

My braid had unraveled, golden strands hanging wild around my face, sticking to my cheeks with sweat and streaks of blood.

The gown I’d once loved a soft lilac silk stitched just for this occasion  was torn here and there, fabric split at my shoulder, now clinging damp and filthy to my skin. Dust streaked my arms. Blood dotted my sleeve. My knees throbbed from where I’d fallen, were scraped open.

And my cheek stung — warm and wet.

I touched it.

My fingers came away red.