Aya Ran Away - Chapter 24

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 24
‘Isn’t this far too courteous for escorting a criminal? And she called me princess.’
Finding the obedience strange, Aya let herself be carried on the maidservant’s back.
Once they emerged from the filthy, damp stairwell, the dry air of the upper world and the flood of light stabbed at Aya’s eyes.
“Were you very frightened?”
Someone spoke to her.
Aya recognized him as the man who had commanded the attendants in the prison.
Squinting as her eyes adjusted to the light, she turned to look at him.
The unfamiliar man continued in a voice as soft as one soothing a child.
“Once you return to your room, a physician will be waiting. Taking medicine should ease your discomfort considerably.”
He spoke deliberately, choosing his words with care.
‘A room? Medicine?’
Aya doubted her own ears, wondering if she had heard correctly.
Blinking rapidly to clear her blurred vision, she narrowed her eyes and gazed silently up at the man who had drawn near.
‘This man…’
Bardal Karinus.
The eldest son of House Karinus, one of the Twelve Great Houses.
He was among Nahal’s most trusted inner circle and one of the generals closest to him.
‘But why has he come to collect me? That’s far too distinguished a person to merely escort a criminal away.’
Considering the turn of events and this conversation together, perhaps she was not being led to her death after all.
“I will explain the details once you have received treatment.”
Watching Bardal’s back as he walked ahead, Aya felt the tension drain from her suddenly.
Relief washed over her.
As the tension released, exhaustion crashed down.
Unable to keep her head up, Aya fell asleep on the unfamiliar maidservant’s back.
* * *
She drifted in and out of consciousness, ailing.
Sleep and waking alternated endlessly.
It seemed she had taken medicine several times in between.
She came to when she felt as if someone were tugging at her clothes.
Her eyes flew open.
Aya jerked her arms frantically and tried to push herself upright.
From spending so long on the hard floor, a sharp pain stabbed through her lower back.
“Princess, it’s me.”
A soft voice came, and someone brushed away Aya’s arm.
‘Yumo.’
“You’ve finally come to your senses. If you’re able, try to sit up. A bath has been prepared. I’ll help you.”
Yumo massaged Aya’s limbs and slowly helped her to her feet.
There were other attendants in the room besides Yumo.
As Aya rose, they attended to her and seated her in a bathtub filled with warm water.
Being bathed by others had always been routine, but having expected death, she felt oddly bewildered by such consideration.
In the water, Aya blinked slowly.
“How you must have suffered on that cold, hard floor.”
Yumo said this while wiping her face.
Then, suddenly leaning close, she whispered in a low voice:
“The new king has shown you mercy.”
Though Yumo did not name who the ‘new king’ was, Aya knew it was Nahal.
The new king’s mercy.
That was the reason her neck had not been severed and why she could now enjoy such comfort.
She pictured Nahal as she had last seen him.
She found it difficult to imagine him issuing an order to spare her.
“Can you stand? Word of your awakening has reached the king, and he wishes to see you.”
A court attendant Aya had not seen before approached and asked.
Aya stared at her face for a moment, then nodded.
Even in the Underground Prison, she had thought she would be bedridden for a long time, but her body felt remarkably light—whatever medicine they had used and however they had used it had worked remarkably well.
Upon hearing Aya’s answer, the attendant rose hurriedly and left.
Returning shortly, she spoke to Aya.
“The king says he will come here once he is ready.”
Yumo bustled about even more than Aya did.
Urged on by Yumo’s haste, Aya was bathed and dressed in fresh clothes by the bustling hands around her.
It was a long white dress she’d worn ages ago.
She’d wanted to wear a head covering and face veil, but they were too filthy to use.
‘I’m certain I have spares in my room.’
Once Aya finished dressing—feeling oddly exposed despite everything—she made her way to the adjoining sitting room, leaning on a servant’s arm for support.
She had no idea how much time had passed.
At least two days, it seemed, that she’d been fevered.
When she’d escaped the Underground Prison, it had been bright daylight; now the world had darkened, and only the moon shone alone in the sky.
The servants and attendants had withdrawn, leaving Aya alone in the sitting room, her eyes fixed quietly on the flickering lamplight.
An odd sensation crept over her.
“You’re awake, then?”
At the sound of footsteps, she turned to find Chifor standing in the doorway.
“I thought you were dead, sleeping four days straight like that.”
Chifor, chattering away as she approached, suddenly went still.
Her eyes, studying Aya’s face, trembled subtly.
Aya frowned up at her, puzzled by the reaction.
In those eyes widened with shock, Aya suddenly understood: she had no veil on.
‘Come to think of it, Chifor has hardly ever seen my bare face.’
Aya felt a flush of shame at the thought of her own appearance.
‘No matter how dreadful my face might be, there’s no need to look at me like that—as though I’m something appalling.’
Aya turned away, unable to meet her gaze.
In that moment, something fragile shattered—a bond born in the darkness of the Underground Prison, forged through shared warmth and proximity, a companionship that had bloomed between them.
“You…”
Knock-knock—
Chifor’s words were cut short by the sound of knuckles rapping at the door.
She turned to see Nahal entering with a servant’s escort.
Of all moments to become aware of her appearance, he had to arrive now.
Aya fought the urge to cover her face with both hands.
The contrast between his striking features and her plain, unremarkable ones filled her with acute embarrassment.
‘Why must he look like that, making me feel so shabby?’
Inwardly cursing his almost offensive beauty, Aya narrowed her eyes to slits.
Nahal stood half-framed in the doorway, issuing some instruction to the servant ahead of him.
It might have been a confirmation he was seeking.
Aya kept her head down and stole glances at him through lowered lashes.
Once he finished speaking, Nahal strode over and seated himself opposite the sisters, exhaling a long, heavy sigh.
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
The lamplight on the table wavered slowly across his face, which bore unmistakable signs of exhaustion.
As Nahal sat in silence, Aya’s mind raced.
‘Shouldn’t I be on my knees, begging him, rather than sitting like this?’
Nahal would likely refuse, but Aya was certain she could do it many times over.
She might not be able to speak, but her knees—she could kneel them raw with pleading if it came to that.
Bargaining for her life seemed to require no great sacrifice of pride; the thought of it didn’t frighten her at all.
If she did that, Nahal would surely spare her.
She couldn’t be certain, but she believed he would.
Aya trusted in the humanity she had witnessed in Nahal over these long hours.
At least he would never thrust a blade into her mouth.
‘A blade in my mouth?’
Why had such a horrible image crossed her mind?
Caught in such thoughts, she heard a petulant voice from beside her.
“Why did you summon us?”
Chifor, arms folded across her chest, asked with her usual arrogance.
She seemed deeply displeased with the entire situation.
Aya was astonished.
‘Remarkable.’
She marveled at how days in the Underground Prison had failed to diminish her half-sister’s imperious nature.
The man before them had lost his entire household to their father’s hand, had his life threatened, and had risen in rebellion to seize the throne.
Yet somehow Chifor could face him without hesitation—a composure Aya found herself newly amazed by.
It seemed only she was unable to meet his eyes.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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