The storm that night was ferocious. Soldiers ran in every direction, scrambling to secure supplies, horses, and the armory. Fortunately, since this was the duchy's main garrison, it had small but sturdy cabins built to withstand exactly this kind of weather. Inside one of them, Stellan stood at the window watching the chaos unfold outside.
"Sadly, there's no fighting nature," the Duke remarked.
"As long as we don't take serious losses, we'll be fine. I appreciate your hospitality," Stellan replied.
He ended up falling asleep on an old sofa in the cabin while, outside, wind hammered against doors and windows, sent loose objects flying, and snapped branches that lay scattered everywhere by morning.
At dawn, everything was calmer — just a light drizzle. Soldiers cleaned up the camp, took stock of provisions, and checked that the stables had held and no horses were lost. Stellan stayed in the cabin and listened to the Duke explain that replacement supplies would likely arrive by evening, since some of their stores had been ruined. The Duke also advised waiting another day before heading into the mountains.
"For safety, it's better to wait until tomorrow before moving toward the mountains. The recent rain could make the route dangerous," he said.
"I know — the main route runs along the base of the mountain." Stellan indicated the spot on the map. "A landslide could cost me men."
For now, he needed most of his soldiers on their feet. He was still working on recovering his full mana before he could use his magic without burning himself out.
Right at dusk, a caravan of four carriages escorted by duchy knights rolled through the garrison gates. The Duke went out personally to receive them, and Stellan watched from a short distance away.
A beautiful white horse pushed through the soldiers, carrying on its back that striking young woman with white hair and gray eyes. She wore riding clothes suited to the journey, and a sword hung at her hip.
When Stellan saw her, a chill moved through him. Her presence was commanding — her mana was even stronger than the Duke's. But that wasn't what surprised him. Of course she'd have mana like that, descended from demons as she was. What stopped him was the recognition: she was part of the story. A villain, to be precise. She had been betrothed to Marquis Harry Roman, who had left her for Agnes, the sweet protagonist. Though Cordelia hadn't become a villain because of that — her hatred of them came from something else entirely.
"Cordelia, darling — I knew you'd come," the Duke said, opening his arms.
The young woman dismounted and accepted her father's embrace. He stepped back with a smile still on his lips.
"Father." She gave a small bow. "I knew the camp would need resupplying after the storm."
"As perceptive as your mother." He gestured for her to follow. "Come — I want to introduce you to someone."
They walked together until they stopped in front of Stellan, who hadn't taken his eyes off her. When Cordelia saw the prince, her body seemed to tense slightly. Just as Stellan had felt her mana, she could feel the overwhelming dark energy radiating off him.
"Cordelia, my dear — this is His Highness, Crown Prince Stellan Von Krausse."
"Your Highness." She bowed. "Cordelia Von Kleist, at your service. It is an honor to be in your presence."
Stellan smiled briefly. "On the contrary — the honor is mine, standing before such remarkable beauty. My lady."
He extended his hand, and Cordelia didn't hesitate to place hers in it, allowing him to press his lips to the back of it. Their eyes stayed locked on each other the whole time.
The Duke watched the exchange. He knew that look between two young people all too well. He gave a small, discreet cough to draw their attention.
"Your Highness, my daughter came to resupply the camp — but since she's here, if she's willing, she could guide you to the mountains."
Cordelia turned at her father's words. "The mountains? Why does Your Highness wish to go there?"
"We believe the rebels may be hiding in the caves in that area," the Duke explained.
"I see. If that's the case, I can be your guide — the terrain can be disorienting for anyone who doesn't know it well."
"I'm grateful for the offer, but Duke, wouldn't that be putting the young lady at risk?" Stellan asked.
"You needn't worry, Your Highness. My daughter is very well trained, and no one knows this territory better than she does," the Duke assured him.
"In that case, I'd be glad to have her as my guide. Her company will be a pleasure." Stellan kept his gaze on Cordelia.
She gave a small bow in acknowledgment, then glanced up at her father, who gave her a quiet wink. The way his daughter carried herself around the prince — and the way she looked at him — told him everything he needed to know. She had taken an interest in him. And it was plain that the prince was not indifferent to her.
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