The Princess' Harem
Chapter 165: A Fork on the Road

Chapter 165: A Fork on the Road

Lady Agnes’s words carried a dramatic flourish, a hint of theatricality that prickled Viana’s already heightened suspicion.

This was a performance, certainly, but for what audience?

Agnes spoke of the whispers in the drawing rooms, the thinly veiled pity from those who had once fawned over her, showered her with compliments, now their gazes held a new, uncomfortable curiosity.

She spoke of the subtle distance her former friends now kept, their invitations growing fewer, their smiles colder. She sighed, her gaze drifting off into the ancient trees that lined the path.

"They look at me differently now, as if I am a broken thing, a discarded toy, left out in the rain to rust. All these years of preparation, of hoping, of being groomed for the highest position in the empire, for the very role you now claim... it means nothing now. My world, my entire world, it has been utterly overturned, shattered into a thousand pieces."

Viana listened, her expression unreadable, a carefully constructed mask of sympathy. She felt a deep prickle of unease.

Agnes’s performance was convincing, certainly, her voice imbued with such sorrow, her gestures so perfectly practiced, her very posture radiating desolation. Her tears, though conspicuously absent, were almost felt in the emotional tremor of her voice.

Yet, something felt profoundly off, a hint of a false note. Viana kept her suspicions carefully hidden, her own gaze unwavering as she absorbed Agnes’s carefully constructed lament about lost destiny and shattered dreams.

"I truly apologize for burdening you with my troubles, Princess," Agnes said, suddenly straightening in her saddle, though her voice remained soft, filled with a lingering sadness that seemed to cling to the air like a heavy mist. She produced a small, exquisitely crafted silver mirror from her riding pouch, glancing at her reflection with a sigh of exaggerated dismay.

"Oh, dear. All this emotion. My face must be a fright, my cosmetics quite ruined. I must return to the stables immediately, to fix my appearance before anyone else sees me like this."

She turned her horse slightly, gesturing with her riding crop towards a narrow, less-traveled path that diverged into a section of denser, darker woods. The sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy overhead, leaving the path in mottled shadow.

"The others have gone ahead, far ahead now, on the main path, you see," Agnes continued, her voice light, almost helpful, radiating a deceptive kindness.

"But if you take that road there," she pointed, her arm extended gracefully, her finger tracing the hidden entrance to the winding path, "it’s a slightly shorter cut, a little shortcut. It will take you through the old trail, a forgotten route. You can easily catch up with them on the other side of the eastern ridge, in about a quarter of an hour."

She offered Viana a polite, fragile smile, her eyes, though still seemingly sad, held a glint, a tiny spark that Viana did not miss.

"I trust you won’t mind riding alone for a moment? I truly must attend to myself, I cannot bear to be seen like this any longer."

Viana’s instinct flared, a sudden cold warning spreading through her mind. The path Agnes indicated looked narrower, darker, less maintained, the foliage denser. It was certainly not the broad, well-trodden main route the others had taken, the one that everyone knew was safe and clear.

***

Viana’s mare shifted beneath her, a soft, nervous whinny escaping its nostrils. She looked at the narrow, shadowed path Lady Agnes had indicated, then back at Agnes herself.

The noble woman’s polite smile was still in place, but her eyes held a subtle gleam Viana knew well. Agnes was waiting for her to make her choice, to fall into her carefully laid snare.

Viana decided. She would take the suggested path. To refuse would be to show fear, to acknowledge Agnes’s power, and to give her the satisfaction of a public, albeit subtle, victory.

Besides, Viana felt a deep, unwavering confidence in her own abilities. She had her own strengths, her own hidden advantages.

"Very well, Lady Agnes," Viana replied, her voice calm, clear, masking the subtle thrum of apprehension. She offered a small, polite nod, almost a dismissal. "I shall take this shortcut. I trust it will indeed lead me swiftly to the others. Do take care to restore your composure."

With a gentle but firm tug on the reins, Viana guided her mare towards the shadowed opening of the trail.

As her horse stepped onto the softer earth of the diverging path, Viana glanced back over her shoulder. Lady Agnes was still there, a lone, elegant figure on the main trail, watching, her face no longer feigning distress, but sharp, calculating.

A thin, almost imperceptible smirk touched her lips as Viana disappeared beneath the dense canopy of trees. The sight confirmed Viana’s suspicions—this was no accident, no mere helpful suggestion. It was a trap, carefully set, its purpose yet to be revealed.

The trail was indeed narrower, less trodden, and significantly darker than the main path. Ancient trees, their branches interlaced overhead, formed a thick, green ceiling, allowing only dappled patches of sunlight to pierce through.

The air grew cooler, damper, filled with the earthy scent of moss and decaying leaves. The sounds of the main riding party quickly faded, replaced by the rustle of leaves underhoof and the distant calls of forest birds.

Viana kept her senses sharp, her head swiveling, eyes darting, observing every shadow, every sudden movement, listening for any unnatural sound. She had her ’Forest Blessing,’ a deep, intrinsic connection to the ancient magic of the Elven race.

The trail twisted and turned, far more winding than Agnes had suggested, truly. The supposed "shortcut" was becoming longer, leading her deeper into unfamiliar territory.

The trees grew thicker, older, their trunks gnarled and scarred. The path itself grew fainter, at times almost disappearing beneath overgrown roots and scattered stones.

Viana’s mare whickered nervously, its ears twitching, sensing the encroaching wildness. She kept a firm hand on the reins, talking softly to her, soothing words to the animal.

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