Free Web NovelChapter 176: Chapter 176
The attack happened during Iliana’s journey to Azaire. It was at the early rise of the rebellion, when whispers of unrest were only just beginning to solidify into something dangerous, slowly gaining a stronghold in the eastern region of Lamora.
She had made the trip many times before and the road to Azaire was familiar to her. But because Azaire bordered the troubled eastern region of Lamora, the route her envoy usually relied on had grown increasingly unsafe.
With unrest in the region swelling by the day, her guards decided on a different, much longer path that was bound to add days to their journey.
The new route was unfamiliar, a stretch of wilderness she had only ever seen on old maps and military charts. Still, they had already traveled too far to turn back. All they could do was press forward and hope the road remained as quiet as it appeared.
They were riding through a lonely road swallowed on both sides by dense, shadow-thick foliage, already more than halfway through the journey when a large pack of hunting wolves appeared as if conjured from thin air.
One moment the trudgeon path was still, the next it was alive with snarls and the sound of pounding paws. Enclosed in her carriage with her lady’s maid, the sudden commotion jolted Iliana’s heart into her throat. Before she could even process what was happening, the wolves lunged.
They dragged the driver from his seat in a blur of claws and teeth, tearing into him before her guards could even raise their swords. His scream barely had the chance to echo before it was abruptly cut short. Panic rippled through the horses, their fear a wild, uncontrollable thing. They reared and neighed loudly, shaking the carriage violently.
The guards reacted as swiftly as they could, but chaos moved faster.
The pack had already circled them, trapping the carriage in a living, snarling ring. The guards’ horses–frightened by the cacophony–bolted into the trees, abandoning their riders in their panic.
Her guards fought bravely, managing to cut down a few of the animals, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. freewebnovёl.ƈom
Inside the carriage, Iliana curled into a tight ball on the floor with her maid, both of them trembling as the sounds of violence raged outside. Guttural snarls, pained yelps, the desperate shouts of injured men. Each noise struck her like knives.
Unlike her brothers, who had all been trained to wield weapons with skill, Iliana had only ever been taught the most basic techniques, enough that she could possibly fend off an attacker but useless when faced with multiple.
She was set to marry prince Hairan and could potentially become the queen of Lamora in the future. If that ever happened, she would have so many guards at her beck and call that she would have no reason to ever touch a weapon again in her life.
But it meant that she had no way to protect herself in moments like this. She was trapped in every sense of the word and was defenseless.
When the uproar faded slightly, they risked peering out. Iliana forced herself to lift her head, her pulse thundering painfully in her ears. What she saw pulled a strangled sound from her throat.
Her three guards lay motionless on the blood-stained earth. Their bodies were mangled, claw marks visible on their faces and other exposed skin. A few of the wolves still lingered near the tree line, watching the carriage and waiting.
The carnage was staggering, and heartbreaking. For a moment she felt numb, suspended between terror and disbelief.
But despite everything, she and her lady’s maid knew they couldn’t stay for much longer. Remaining inside the carriage would make them easy prey. When night fell, more dangerous woodland creatures could come, or even bandits, seeing that it was the perfect opportunity to rob a noble woman.
Waiting for another traveler to pass was unrealistic when the road was deserted.
Eventually, when the forest quieted and the last of the wolves finally slunk away, she and her maid fled, bolting from the carriage and into the treeline. Branches clawed at their dresses but fear drove them forward.
In the chaos of running, they somehow got separated. Iliana called her maid’s name until her throat burned, but the forest swallowed her voice whole.
For hours she wandered, exhausted and shaken from the entire ordeal.
It was already dark when she finally spotted the military outpost. Tears streamed down her face. After walking for hours, seeing it there and knowing that she was bound to find people in there had filled her with renewed hope. For a while, she believed that she had made it to safety, that against all odds she had survived.
It was a Westerian outpost but she hadn’t cared about, regardless of how their kingdoms felt about each other, she didn’t think they would purposefully turn away a woman in need.
But as she staggered into view looking disheveled, begging for aid, they didn’t see a stranded woman in need of help, they saw a vampire, the one thing they despised the most.
Before she could fully explain, before they even attempted to listen, the soldiers seized their weapons. She fought back the best she could.
She was a vampire, which meant she was technically stronger than them since they were only humans, so she could have been able to hold her own. But she was poorly equipped for combat and fatigued from trekking all this way. The soldiers on the other hand, were armed with wickedly sharp swords.
Even with their advantage in number and weaponry, they still approached with wariness, watching her movements as though she were a feral beast. When they struck, they did so as a group.
Later, the reports would detail the state of her body when she was found. It noted every cut, every gouge, every bruise. A full record of the torment she endured at the hands of Westeria’s soldiers, men who had seen only a creature worth killing.
Iliana Tavish died of blunt-force trauma to the skull, minutes after she was left for dead near the southern border, broken and in unbearable agony. It happened only weeks before her wedding to Hairan. All because they saw her as a threat. They were blinded with their disdain for Lamorians, a hatred that was perpetuated by their king.
The soldiers bragged about their actions for days, and word of what they had done spread quickly until it reached King Zeriel.
After that, the fragile peace their people had clung to shattered and Hairan snapped.
But the King of Westeria saw no fault in his soldiers’ actions. He was too proud, too stubborn, to admit that they had done wrong.
