The Princess' Harem
Chapter 62: The Hunt Begins

Chapter 62: The Hunt Begins

After leaving the tavern, Viana and Joel walked through the deserted alleyways of the port town. The streets were empty, illuminated only by the dim glow of lanterns and the sound of waves crashing against the wooden docks in the distance.

The cold night air carried the scent of salt and wet wood, making Viana pull her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Her mind kept replaying Kess’s words, "A scout disrupting the trade route."

Whoever this person was, they had to be either bold or highly skilled to challenge people like Kess.

Joel’s voice broke the silence, his tone low yet confident. "We need to move before dawn. If this scout is monitoring the caravans, he is hiding near the forest trail, watching every movement."

Viana nodded, her eyes fixed ahead into the alley. "We cannot fail. Kess is our only lead to Arin."

Joel glanced at her, a playful smile appearing despite the tense situation. "Always so serious, Mara. Try smiling a little, like you did back in the market."

Viana glared at him but allowed a small smile to form. "I will relax once this is over, Elias," she replied, purposely using Joel’s alias to tease him.

Joel chuckled softly, his hand briefly brushing against Viana’s arm as they turned the corner. "I will remember that promise, Princess."

Without hesitation, they left the town behind and entered the northern forest.

***

The northern forest was thick, its towering trees blocking most of the moonlight. The cold air carried the scent of damp soil and pine leaves, while a thin mist hung between the roots.

Their horses moved cautiously, their hooves barely making a sound against the mossy ground. They eventually dismounted and tied their horses to a tree in a hidden spot.

Joel walked ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness around them. "If he is spying on the caravans, he will be near the main path, hiding where no one can easily spot him."

Viana glanced around and took a slow breath. "Unless he is already watching us."

Joel did not respond, but his hand instinctively moved closer to his dagger.

A few minutes passed before Viana noticed something—footprints in the damp ground, still fresh.

She pointed at the tracks. "We follow them," she whispered.

They moved deeper into the forest, stepping carefully to avoid dry branches. Suddenly, Joel raised his hand, signaling Viana to stop.

"Look," he whispered, his eyes locked onto a faint glow ahead.

Ahead of them, partially hidden among the trees, was a small campsite. A lone man sat near a fire, sharpening a short sword with precise, practiced movements.

He looked young, likely around Joel’s age, dressed in dark clothing suited for blending into the wilderness. His posture was tense, and his eyes continuously scanned his surroundings.

Joel whispered so softly that Viana had to lean in to hear. "He is not just a scout. Look at how he holds the sword—he is trained, probably a former mercenary."

Viana exhaled slowly. "If we attack directly, he might escape. We need to be smart."

Joel smirked slightly. "Do you trust me?"

Viana frowned but eventually nodded. "Always. What is your plan?"

Joel did not answer. Instead, he nodded toward the campsite and silently moved around to flank the scout from the other side.

Viana understood—they would trap him, and she would be the bait.

Taking a deep breath, Viana stepped forward deliberately, crushing a dry branch underfoot. The scout immediately tensed, grabbing his weapon.

"Who is there?" he demanded, his voice firm.

Viana stepped closer, raising her hands to show she was unarmed. "Just a merchant who got lost," she said, pretending to sound frightened. "You seem like someone who knows the paths in this forest."

The man did not lower his guard. "Merchants do not wander into the forest at midnight. Who are you really?"

Before Viana could respond, Joel emerged from the shadows behind the man, pressing his dagger against his back with swift precision.

"Good question," Joel said, his tone relaxed but authoritative. "But we are asking the questions first."

The scout stiffened but did not resist. "You work for Kess," he accused, his voice filled with contempt.

Viana and Joel exchanged a quick glance.

"Possibly," Viana answered cautiously. "But we need to know why you are interfering with his caravans."

The scout scoffed but seemed hesitant. "You have no idea what you are involved in."

***

They tied the man’s hands with rope, loose enough to prevent injury but firm enough to keep him restrained.

Joel crouched in front of him, casually spinning the scout’s stolen dagger. "We do not like wasting time. Your name and your reason. Now."

The man studied them before exhaling deeply. "My name is Ren. And I am not your enemy."

Viana narrowed her eyes. "You are disrupting Kess’s trade routes. That alone makes you someone’s enemy."

Ren gave a bitter smile. "Trade? You think it is just spices and fabric?"

He lowered his head for a moment, then continued, his voice quieter. "Those caravans are carrying people. Taken from border villages—prisoners, children, anyone who will not be reported missing."

Viana felt a chill run down her spine, not from the cold air.

"Slavery... again?" she muttered, anger filling her voice.

Ren nodded. "And Kess is not just a merchant. He is part of something much bigger."

Joel straightened, his usual relaxed demeanor fading. "Prince Arin?"

Ren’s gaze sharpened. "You know more than I expected. Yes, Prince Arin is behind this."

Silence surrounded them, only the crackling fire breaking the tension.

Viana blinked a few times, her mind racing. They had originally been sent by Kess to stop Ren, but this man had just given them more valuable information than they had anticipated.

Joel rubbed his neck, deep in thought. "This is complicated. Kess wants proof that you will stop interfering. If we return empty-handed, he will get suspicious."

Viana looked between Ren and Joel. "We could lie. Tell Kess that the scout has been ’taken care of,’ but let Ren continue his work more carefully."

Ren eyed them suspiciously. "Why are you siding with me? Do you not work for Kess?"

Joel gave a slight smile. "We are chasing Arin, not you. And we do not support slavery."

Viana added, her voice strong and authoritative, like the princess she truly was. "But you need to give us something—proof we can bring to Kess without putting you in danger."

Ren was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a small medal engraved with an eagle, the same emblem as Kess’s coin.

"This belonged to one of the caravan overseers. I took it last week. Give it to Kess—tell him you took it from me after driving me away."

Viana took the medal, feeling the cold metal between her fingers. "And you? What will you do?"

Ren stared into the fire. "I will keep stopping those caravans, but with more caution. If you are truly after Arin, maybe we can help each other someday."

Joel stood, handing Ren back his dagger. "Do not make us regret this, Ren."

Ren smirked. "Same to you."