Chapter 54
"...Cassiane... Cass... wake up... Come on, Cass..."
The voice reached my brain as though it had to swim through an entire river before getting there. Distant. Muffled. Incredibly annoying.
It slowly dragged me back toward consciousness.
The first thing I became aware of was the crushing headache trying to split my skull in half.
The second was the unpleasant burning in my throat.
I jerked upright, coughing up what felt like half the river onto the muddy ground before greedily sucking in several ragged breaths. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and blinked several times until the world reluctantly came into focus.
Dark sky.
Cold mud.
Trees.
And... Lucien.
He sat beside me, soaked to the bone, blond hair plastered against his forehead. An ugly bruise bloomed across his cheek, paired with a matching swell on his temple- additions to the collection he'd accumulated during our kidnapping. Otherwise, he looked remarkably.... horrible.
I stared at him for a solid few seconds. Just to be absolutely certain I hadn't died and somehow transmigrated into yet another novel.
"...Okay," I croaked, my voice sounding like it had been dragged across gravel. "Good."
Lucien tilted his head. "Good?"
"No surprise transmigration this time."
"...What?"
"I was checking whether I'd woken up inside somebody else's body."
He blinked. "...Cassiane."
"Yes?"
"You say the strangest things immediately after regaining consciousness."
"Aah... my bad." I noted to myself to shut up before I blabbered my entire bizarre back-story.
After several deeply undignified attempts at convincing my lungs not to revolt, I finally managed to breathe normally again.
"So..." I looked around. "...Where exactly are we?"
Lucien followed my gaze. "The current carried us quite a distance. I don't recognize this part of the river."
I slowly pushed myself to my feet, only for the world to tilt alarmingly sideways. Lucien immediately caught my elbow before gravity could humiliate me further.
"You alright?"
"I'll let you know once the ground decides whether it wants to stay in one place."
He waited until I found my balance before letting go.
The river rushed quietly behind us, disappearing into darkness. Dense trees surrounded the bank on either side, their branches swaying gently in the night breeze.
No kidnappers.
No carriage.
No collapsing cabin.
No sign of civilization whatsoever.
A cold gust of wind cut straight through my drenched dress, and I shivered so violently my teeth clicked together.
Lucien glanced at me. "We need to get you somewhere warm."
"I'd also appreciate somewhere dry."
"And preferably somewhere with walls."
"And absolutely no ropes," I added.
He nodded solemnly. "I'll add that to the requirements."
We started walking. Calling it walking might have been generous-it was more like two exhausted disasters dragging themselves forward through sheer stubbornness.
Our soaked clothes squelched with every step.
I had lost my footwear somewhere during our dramatic situation and was now barefoot, while Lucien looked only marginally more dignified despite technically being a prince.
Several minutes passed before the narrow trail beneath our feet gradually widened into an old dirt road. Lucien suddenly slowed, frowning at the scattered cottages barely visible beneath the moonlight.
"...Wait," he muttered.
"What?"
"I know this place."
I looked at him. "...You do?"
"I think so. My father was touring the western provinces a few years ago. We passed through this village on the way back."
"You remember that?"
"It was one of our scheduled stops." He looked farther down the road, his expression brightening slightly. "If I remember correctly, there should be a small inn somewhere ahead."
I simply stared at him. Who memorized the location of a tiny roadside inn from a royal tour years ago? Apparently Lucien did. His dedication to being the perfect crown prince was honestly starting to scare me.
Did princes attend classes called Advanced Inn Memorization? Was there an exam? 'Identify this tavern from twenty-seven kingdoms using only a poorly painted wooden sign.'
He noticed me staring.
"...What?"
"I'm trying to understand how your brain works. By remembering hyper-specific geography."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "My tutors insisted that a future king should know his kingdom."
"...Your tutors sound exhausting."
His shoulders shook with a quiet laugh. "There." He pointed farther ahead.
Nestled between two old stone buildings stood a modest cottage with warm amber light spilling from its windows. Above the entrance hung a faded wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze.
Lucien let out a quiet breath. "Thank God. It's still here."
"I am both impressed and mildly disturbed."
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"I haven't decided yet."
We walked toward the building. As we climbed the small wooden steps leading to the entrance, I stopped.
Lucien looked back. "What?"
I folded my arms. "So... this is either the luckiest coincidence of our lives..." I gestured dramatically toward the inn, "...or the exact opening scene of another terrible decision."
He considered that. "Statistically speaking, we've already been kidnapped once today. That makes a second kidnapping significantly less likely."
"...I'm fairly certain that's not how statistics work."
"I'm choosing optimism."
Before I could argue, he pushed open the heavy wooden door.