Close to a week had passed since they visited the armorer when the message finally arrived at the Palace, informing them that the order was ready.

Originally, Saria and Lysandra were supposed to go there together to finalize the purchase, but an invitation for a birthday dinner arrived the day before, forcing the Princess to attend.

Since the transaction only needed one final payment and fitting, Saria went alone.

“This is incredible,” she gasped, looking at the finished armor.

Crimson and gold embroidery decorated the rim of the black, loosely fitting robe. Its long sleeves and leggings covered the body in full.

Small, practical pauldrons made of dark, reinforced leather protected the shoulders without sacrificing mobility. Meanwhile, the long gauntlets with studded knuckles doubled as a weapon.

The form-fitting chest piece was made from the same reinforced leather, but with an additional metal plate protecting the heart.

As it was explained to her, the soles of the boots were crafted with a special technique that didn’t require hobnails, making them quiet but not at the cost of durability.

Every piece of the armor was decorated with the same intricate pattern of flames and roses, turning it from a simple utility wear into a masterpiece.

Everything was complete with a hood attached to the pauldrons and a simple mask.

It felt incredible.

She tried stretching and moving around, and to her great pleasure, the armor didn’t limit her range of motion at all. As if she weren’t wearing it.

“Does it have any enchantments?” Saria asked slyly.

“It does, my lady. Her Highness requested them,” the armorer, Marcius, answered, weighing his words.

“Mostly those increasing elemental resistance and utility. There are also illusion enchantments that help with blending in with the environment. You should be much harder to spot while wearing it. Especially at night,” he explained after a moment of thought.

Saria’s eyes lit up. “Healing?”

“No, my lady. That kind of enchantment can only be carved on a limited number of alloys and stones. The cloth or leather cannot hold it.”

“Oh,” Saria muttered, visibly disappointed. “Then how could my Arena armor have them? It barely covers anything.”

“The enchantments were carved on both the arm piece and the helmet, treated as one, my lady. You have to be wearing both for them to work, otherwise, the incantation is severed and stops functioning.”

Saria took another look at herself in the mirror.

The armor fit her so well that it was almost like a second skin. Like an extension of her own body.

As an unexpected bonus, it also made her look extremely good.

“You shouldn’t be calling me ‘my lady’. I’m a slave, you know it,” she said after a moment of silence. She noticed that he did that during her last visit, too. But she thought it was due to Lysandra being present.

She wasn’t expecting the man to continue addressing her like this, even when they were alone.

“Being a slave doesn’t mean that you stopped being a person, my lady. In the eyes of our Gods, we are all equal,” Marcius gave her a warm smile.

Hearing this, it immediately became clear why Lysandra trusted this man.

People like him were rare in Aelius. Maybe even in the whole Helis continent.

No law forced others to disrespect the slaves, but people did it anyway.

In the short time living on this side of society, Saria had a good view of how people react when they see the brand on her forearm.

It was like she suddenly became someone less. Less than a person, less than a human. Someone unworthy of the minimal amount of respect.

What bothered her the most was that it wasn’t limited to those of high status. No. The worst were those whose situation wasn’t much better than hers. People at the bottom of the free-folk ladder.

People who should sympathize with her the most were the first to disrespect her.

Perhaps if her life had been different. If she had never experienced the things she did, it would break her, make her lose faith in people.

But the truth was, she never had it in the first place.

Against all odds, her body remembered. The betrayal, lies, and backstabbing.

Nothing could make her forget.

The hole that her past left in her heart refused to mend, even when its cause was no longer present in her mind.

Just when she thought she would be forced to live with this numbness forever, Lysandra came into her life.

She gave her shelter, safety, and comfort.

But most importantly, she gave her purpose. Something to strive for, something to add meaning to everything she went through, and to put those grim skills of hers to good use.

“Thank you, Marcius. The armor is perfect,” she said, feeling her heart turn a bit lighter.

“Take this back to the Palace and deliver it to my room,” Saria said and pointed at the chest containing her brand-new armor.

“What about you? Her Highness explicitly told us to stay close to you when you’re out,” one of the guards that Lysandra assigned to her said, scratching his head awkwardly.

“She worries too much,” Saria sighed. “Nobody is going to attack or kidnap me in broad daylight with all these people around. I just want to look around the market. I never had a proper chance before.”

The town was especially busy today, mostly due to the festivities celebrating Lucretia, the Goddess of trade. It would be impossible for anyone to make a move without alerting half of the city.

Reluctantly, the guard picked up the chest and loaded it on the carriage. “Make sure to return before evening,” he told her, “I don’t want Her Highness to rip my head off if something happens to you.”

Saria laughed, then assured the guard one more time that she would be fine. Eventually, he yielded and got on the carriage to go back to the Palace, while she plunged into the sea of people roaming around the market.

None of the little details from this exchange escaped the watchful gaze observing it from a distance.

“After all this time… I have finally found you, murderer.”

The sun was already setting when Saria returned to the Palace. Since it was her first time alone in the town, she took her time exploring it.

But that wasn’t the only reason she was reluctant to go back to the Palace.

The truth was, without Lysandra, there wasn’t much for her to do there. Taking the stroll in the gardens or leisurely wandering around empty corridors lost its charm after the first five times.

One time more, and she was risking dying from boredom.

Of course, the alternative was to go to Dolores and allow herself to be ground to the bone with all the chores that were waiting for her. Naturally, it was not something that Saria was even considering.

That being said, from what Lysandra told her, she was only planning to attend the dinner and return shortly after that, meaning she should have been back in the late afternoon at the latest.

Coming over to the Princess’ chambers, however, she was met with an unpleasant surprise.

“Her Highness isn’t here,” Heron told her when she arrived.

“Do you know where I can find her then?” Saria asked, slightly taken aback.

The guard shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“She hasn’t been back since she left in the morning,” Alkaios added. “I thought you went out together?”

Saria frowned as a bad feeling welled in her gut. “No. We split up. I had to take care of something in the city.”

She looked at the orange aura of the setting sun. “She should have been back a long time ago.”

Even if the dinner took longer than she anticipated, Lysandra should have been back already. The villa where the party was held wasn’t even that far from the Palace.

The guards looked at each other anxiously.

“Do you think Her Highness is in trouble?” Heron took off his helmet and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Saria said, then turned around to leave. “Send a messenger to Lord Therion. Tell him what happened and request him to head to the Naevius’ villa as soon as he can.”

Without wasting more time, she ran out of the Palace and stopped at the main gate.

The Naevius’ property was on the outskirts of the city. She was planning to take the horse there, but seeing how busy the streets were, she realized it would be faster to get there on foot.

Making up her mind, she darted into the crowd.

It took her nearly twice as much time as usual to reach the main square, but from there, things should go much faster.

Past it, she would be able to get off the main streets and cut through districts, taking the alleys, avoiding most of the crowd.

Saria pushed through the people, earning a few curses and angered complaints from those she removed from her way with her elbows.

She didn’t pay any attention to them, focused on reaching the villa as fast as she could.

The fear in her heart that something bad had happened only grew stronger with every step she took.

With the final push through the crowd, she ran into the dark alley.

Wooden crates and barrels turned the path into a makeshift obstacle course. Without missing a beat, she vaulted over the first portion of boxes, then swiftly slid past the next.

She was about to turn around a corner when she felt a prickle on her neck.

In an instant, her vision blurred, and her body started losing strength.

Her limbs seemed to stop listening to her, her feet dragged on the pavement.

She desperately clung to the wall, trying to keep her balance, but the control was draining from her in seconds.

The last thing she remembered before falling unconscious was a small dart that she ripped from the back of her neck, and the panicked thoughts.

Not now, damn it. Not now!