After the first day of the summit came to a close, Cian retired to his guest mansion and changed his formal summit attire for the more typical noble garb to disguise himself. Though he couldn't help but fret over Drayce's sudden departure from the conference, he held firm in his belief that the formidable king would handle the matter swiftly.
It was almost certainly related to his sister, the only person capable of diverting that king's attention from even the most critical affairs.
"Your Highness, everything is in order. We're prepared to leave through the palace's rear passages. Your cousin has already ensured a clear path for our departure," Eliot, Cian's guardian knight, informed.
Two freshly groomed Othinian horses stood ready behind the guest mansion, waiting for them. As Cian departed the palace, he was accompanied by his guardian knight, Eliot Fletcher, the son of King Armen's own guardian knight, Sir Berolt Fletcher. Eliot bore a striking resemblance to his father, possessing the same tall, robust frame, short black hair, and piercing light blue eyes.
His appearance clearly showed his lineage of belonging as belonging from the family of knights.
The pair rode through the city, making their way towards its outskirts, where a secret messenger awaited them with crucial information regarding the hidden storage sites for banned herbs and the locations of plantation.
Cian and Eliot eventually halted at the base of a mountain that featured a vast, desolate expanse covered in knee-high dried grass. Numerous tall boulders were scattered around, offering ample cover for anyone seeking concealment.
"He should arrive shortly," Eliot assured Cian.
Cian nodded in agreement and continued to survey the area, a place he had often visited as a child. In his early years, when he accompanied his mother, Queen Niobe on trips to Othinia, his older maternal cousins would take him on explorations, and this particular spot held special memories for them. It was here, on the vast expanse near the cliff, that they used to revel in the joy of flying kites.
'I wonder if anyone still frequents this place,' Cian mused. 'It appears rather deserted now.'
Eliot noticed his master lost in thought and inquired, "Is something on your mind, Your Highness?"
"Just reminiscing about old memories," Cian replied with a wistful smile. "While we wait for him to arrive, let's take a stroll around."
Cian took a step forward, and Eliot followed closely, his senses tuned in for any potential threats. As they traversed the area dotted with scattered boulders, Cian's gaze wandered to the distant opposite side. To his surprise, he heard the sound of laughter and cheerful voices.
Few young children and young women were playing in the vicinity, attempting to fly kites. Their attire marked them as members of noble families. As Cian moved a little forward, he could discern their conversations.
"We're all going to fly kites today. Let's see whose kite soars the highest."
"Mine will. I'll outfly all of yours and send it soaring beyond your reach."
"I'm flying the kite today," one of the children chimed in. "Sister, you have to help me. Huh? Where's my elder sister?"
He decided to get out and see what was going on. However, just as he turned to depart, a figure rushed towards him with lightning speed from other side of the boulder, colliding with him and sending them both tumbling to the ground. The collision occurred so quickly that Cian had no time to steady himself. All he knew he heard trickling sound of the jewellery before the collision.
He found himself entangled with a soft and delicate body, and as he looked upon the person, rather than appearing flustered, she seemed poised to get back on her feet. Her long hair cascaded over his face, enveloping him in a sweet musky fragrance. Without sparing him a glance, she appeared focused on the sky and made her hasty departure, leaving behind parting words.
"Apologies, but I am in a hurry."
Cian, still on the ground, watched her retreat, her hands diligently lifting her skirt to facilitate her rapid escape. It dawned on him that this was the same young woman he had noticed with the windmill. He remained lying on the ground and closed his eyes, attempting to summon a mental image of her face. He recalled the moment when she had been trying to stand up.
Her initial look of bewilderment had been replaced by one of urgency, their eyes meeting for a fleeting moment before she stood up. In that brief instant, he had glimpsed a pair of stunning brown eyes that sparkled like stars in the broad daylight.
A faint smile graced Cian's lips as he rose to his feet, his gaze following the young woman as she sprinted in pursuit of something he now recognized as a kite. He stepped out from behind the boulders and watched that group at a distance, cheering for this young woman.
The loudest cheers came from the young boy who had earlier called for his sister's assistance. "Sister, you're the best! I know you can catch it!"
Cian was engrossed in watching her exert herself across the vast field. She halted midway, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but her sharp eyes showed her determination. Despite the hindrance of her long dress, she made a dash toward a massive boulder comprised of sturdy rocks and began climbing it which seemed easier for her as if she was used to it.
She hurried towards the top and caught the string of that kite.
A resounding cheer erupted from the group, and they rushed to congratulate her.
Eliot, who had observed the entire scene, was equally impressed and approached Cian. "Your Highness, the path is clear. Today, we can proceed to the designated hideout where your cousin's men are waiting."
Cian nodded and departed with Eliot, sparing one last glance at the remarkable woman, a gentle smile lingering on his lips.
As they mounted their horses, Cian let out a slight groan, catching Eliot's concern.
"Your Highness, have you injured your hand?"
"It's nothing serious," Cian replied, attempting to soothe the sudden pain in his wrist with his thumb.
He hadn't even realized he was hurt initially, but now the memory resurfaced. When he fell, the woman had inadvertently grasped his hand, and when she tumbled, his hand had been pressed against the sharp rock on the ground, causing it to hurt.
Ignoring the pain, he rode towards their destination, letting the image of that young woman with a windmill to disappear at the back of his head.