The moonlight is hazy.
The thin mist shrouding the shore seems to cast a mystical veil over the bright moon.
The escaping girl is blocked by her protector in front of her, looking despairingly at the pursuing soldiers closing in.
"Get away, don't come near us!"
"Calm down, boys. Aronia was personally chosen by Isaac, Your Majesty's Standard Bearer. In the future, she will live a life a thousand times better than now."
"Think about it, little girl. You'll live in the palace of Nicosia in the future, leading a life free of worries, and the commoners will bow to you in salute."
"Hand her over to us, and I promise the safety of the three of you."
Indeed, there are three people.
Two half-grown boys, holding scythes and hoes, protecting the girl, angrily chastising the soldiers with nervous expressions.
"What are you blabbering about? Everyone knows that once a girl enters that tyrant's palace, she can never come out alive!"
