Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Among the medals Raymond took pride in wearing were several awarded to him by the Imperial Family.

Remembering that this emblem had been engraved on one of those imperial medals, she murmured to herself.

“Was someone from the Imperial Family aboard?”

Medals were common rewards bestowed by the Emperor upon nobles who had rendered distinguished service, but rings bearing the Imperial Family’s crest were reserved exclusively for members of the royal bloodline.

Turning the ring over, she noticed a small inscription engraved on the inside.

“……Adel……”

The remaining letters had been worn away and were difficult to make out.

Isabel stared at the ring in her palm for a moment before slipping it into her pocket.

It seemed best to keep it safe for now.

Soon afterward, she slung the heavy leather bag over her shoulder and trudged out of the ship.

The sunlight had already begun to sink toward the west.

She intended to return to her base before nightfall.

About an hour later,

Isabel stopped for a moment and sat down on a tree stump.

The heavy bag strap had been chafing her shoulder, and she was thirsty.

She set the bag down, took out the crude waterproof waterskin made from her dress lining, which was tied around her waist, and loosened the cord securing its opening.

Glug, glug.

Cold rainwater trickled down her throat.

“Hoo… That hits the spot.”

Just as she wiped her mouth, feeling considerably refreshed, she heard a rustling sound from the bushes.

Something was moving.

Gray fur and long ears…

Isabel’s gaze snapped toward it like lightning.

She slowly set down the waterskin and lowered her body.

Holding her breath, she waited for several minutes.

Thud!

She sprang into the bushes with a swift, agile movement, and moments later, when she stood back up, a rabbit was dangling from her hand by its ears.

“Got you.”

The corners of Isabel’s lips curled upward.

She had just secured herself a decent dinner.

**

By the time she reached her shelter on the shore, the sunset had already painted the sky crimson.

The first thing Isabel did was check the embers.

A faint wisp of smoke was rising from the fire pit she had made the previous night.

Starting a fire in the wilderness was no difficult task for Isabel, but having to relight an extinguished one would have been a nuisance, so this was fortunate.

She placed dry leaves and twigs into the fire pit and blew gently.

The glowing embers began to come back to life.

Whoosh.

“That’s it.”

Smiling faintly, Isabel took the precious hand axe she had carefully salvaged from her leather bag.

Then she began preparing the rabbit she had dispatched earlier.

Her movements were completely unhesitating.

With the practiced motions of a butcher, she skinned it, removed its innards, and discarded the inedible parts.

The cleaned meat was surprisingly plump.

A little while later, the rabbit meat was threaded onto a wooden skewer and suspended over the fire.

Fat dripped into the flames, producing a sizzling sound.

Isabel also took out the nuts she had gathered along the way.

They resembled wild ginkgo nuts, and she threaded those onto wooden skewers as well, setting them beside the fire to roast.

A savory aroma spread through the evening air.

The surface of the meat gradually turned golden brown.

Isabel took the first bite of the thoroughly cooked rabbit.

The rich, savory flavor filled her mouth, making her eyelashes tremble slightly.

Crunch. The outside was crispy, and the parts roasted directly over the flames carried a faint charred aroma.

Its texture was similar to chicken, though a little firmer.

“Mmm…”

With every bite, the sweet, succulent juices spread across her tongue, drawing an involuntary sound of appreciation from her.

Food always tasted better when it came after a struggle to survive.

“Good.”

The well-roasted nuts went perfectly with the rabbit meat.

Watching the flames crackle and dance, Isabel chewed her food.

The sound of waves rolling onto the dimly lit shore brought something to mind.

“……I wish I had some rum.”

She smacked her lips and gave a faint smile.

She remembered the days when, after completing a mission, her fellow mercenaries would pass around bottles of rum beside a campfire.

Whenever they got their hands on some money, her comrades would spend it on alcohol first and drink themselves senseless.

“……”

A sigh escaped Isabel’s lips as she recalled a past she could never return to.

Eventually, she swallowed the rest of her meal.

Her stomach was full, and her strength had returned.

Now, before going to sleep, Isabel turned to her next task.

Water.

It was always the most important concern when it came to survival.

The pots, pieces of metal, cloth, and ropes she had salvaged from the shipwreck.

Using those items, Isabel assembled a simple distillation apparatus over the fire pit.

The principle was straightforward.

She would boil seawater in a pot placed over the fire.

The moisture would rise as steam, condense on a piece of cloth set at an angle, and then flow from its dampened edge into another pot positioned beneath it, collecting as distilled water.

This should be enough to secure her drinking water for the time being.

‘Finding a natural source of fresh water will probably take some time.’

Isabel carefully inspected the apparatus she had assembled.

There was nothing more important than water in a place like this.

Eventually, after finishing her habitual cleanup of the surrounding area, darkness had completely fallen.

The sky was filled with stars, and the sound of waves could be heard in the distance.

“……”

Suddenly, Raymond’s face appeared in her mind.

It was a face she had deliberately avoided thinking about, since even getting angry required energy.

“Please, take good care of your health, .”

After murmuring what sounded like a well-wishing remark, though revenge was clearly on her mind, Isabel closed her eyes.

The warmth of the fire pit gently enveloped her, keeping the cold at bay.

Above the pot, the distillation apparatus was slowly collecting droplets of water.

Drip, drip. She could hear the sound of life-giving water falling into the pot beneath it.

**

Someone who had spent years living as a mercenary never fell completely asleep in the wilderness.

When a sound other than the wind, waves, and insects reached her ears, the eyelashes of the sleeping woman twitched.

Splash.

Her consciousness, which had been resting for a while, gradually began to stir.

In fact, before falling asleep earlier, she had set up an alarm trap around her campsite.

It was a simple contraption made from ropes, branches, and seashells, but it would make a noise and alert her to danger if anyone approached.

Jingle.

The sound came again.

Isabel slowly reached out and grasped the hand axe she had placed beside her.

And the moment a shadow fell over her…

“……!”

She sprang up in an instant, seized the collar of the figure looming over her, and flipped him over her shoulder.

As soon as the man’s body hit the ground, Isabel mounted him and pressed the blade of her hand axe against his throat.

Having subdued the man who had approached her in the dead of night, Isabel glared at him, breathing heavily.

Her heart was pounding.

“……Haa…”

Beneath the moonlight, the violet eyes of the man pinned beneath her were revealed as he looked up at her.

Underneath his disheveled silver hair was a sculpted, high-bridged nose, and his lips were somewhat dry.

A couple of the top buttons of his shirt had been torn away beneath his prominent Adam’s apple, exposing much of his firm chest, while his vest, adorned with gold embroidery, was stained with dirt.

He appeared to be around her age, and despite his utterly disheveled appearance, there was something so out of place about him that he could only be a nobleman.

“Are you a survivor from the shipwreck?”

Isabel growled as she questioned the man.

At that, the man’s eyes briefly shifted toward the hem of Isabel’s skirt, and his eyebrows twitched up and down.

Then he spoke in a hoarse, low voice.

“An assassin…”

One side of Isabel’s face twitched.

“What?”

“No. You’re not.”

The man studied her bewildered expression intently, then slowly pushed Isabel off him and rose to his feet, swaying slightly.

As he brushed the dirt off his vest as though nothing had happened, something crossed Isabel’s mind.

“Could it be…?”

Now that she thought about it, this man… She had felt that there was something familiar about him.

Isabel narrowed her eyes.

And only then did she remember the ring bearing the Imperial crest.

“Have you recognized me?”

His lips moved.

Erich Whissen Chrysler.

The Empire’s Second Prince, a man widely regarded as possessing exceptional political and administrative abilities among the princes, and one who enjoyed considerable trust from the Emperor.

Naturally, Isabel had never seen him in person.

He must be a double. He doesn’t look anything like His Majesty the Emperor. Royal family members often conceal their identities to avoid assassination attempts. Or perhaps he’s wearing heavy makeup.

She recalled Raymond speculating about the Second Prince, Erich, while reading the newspaper.

He had said that even as a nobleman from the frontier, he had never once seen the Second Prince in person.

But Isabel knew the truth.

Erich Whissen Chrysler really did look exactly as handsome as he did in the photographs.

His silver hair shimmered in the moonlight, swaying gently in the night breeze.

And those mysteriously deep violet eyes… Weren’t they said to be a symbol of direct imperial blood?

Apparently, there were only a handful of people with violet eyes across the entire continent.

“Your Highness, the Prince.”

Despite his rather disheveled appearance, the man still possessed an unmistakable air of nobility.

He checked the pistol hanging from his belt once more.

And he assumed that now that this woman had discovered his identity, she would ask why a prince like him had ended up stranded here…

“Why didn’t you shoot me when I had you pinned down?”

But at the unexpected question, Erich’s brows shifted ever so slightly.

He soon looked at Isabel and replied.

“Because I need to conserve my ammunition.”

Isabel shrugged and retorted.

“Doesn’t seem like a particularly wise choice. If I’d been a real assassin, I would have slit your throat while I was checking your face.”

At her blunt words, a strange, dark glint appeared in Erich’s eyes.

Isabel brushed her disheveled hair back and spoke.

“In the wilderness, today matters more than tomorrow.”

After a brief silence, Erich twisted his lips into an intrigued smile.

“I’ll take your advice to heart.”

Click.

“Now, tell me. Who exactly are you?”

The barrel of the pistol hanging from his waist was now pointed at Isabel’s temple.

His eyes gleamed intensely, filled with unmistakable suspicion and an interest that had flared back to life like the dying embers of a fire pit.

Isabel let out a small sigh.

Although meddling like this rarely did her any good, she simply couldn’t help interfering when someone inexperienced displayed such a lack of caution.

Just then, she spotted another man approaching from the other side, running in a rather peculiar manner.