The Princess' Harem
Chapter 70: Whispers on the Road

Chapter 70: Whispers on the Road

The forest trail was cold and muddy, winding from the port town to Elysia’s capital. Tall pine trees lined the path, their scent mixing with the faint salt of the sea breeze.

Viana’s boots sank into the damp earth, her green cloak heavy with moisture, her blonde hair hidden beneath her hood. Ten captives followed, their movements slow and weary. Cooper leaned against the older woman, his small frame unsteady from exhaustion.

Torren led the group, his scarred face unreadable. Six mercenaries flanked the sides, crossbows ready, eyes scanning the shadows.

Joel walked beside Viana, his brown eyes sweeping the treeline for danger. Reyes trailed behind in silence, his dark cloak shifting with the wind.

Viana’s chest tightened. Reyes’s words from the lodge still weighed on her—_Don’t push me aside again._ His anger and jealousy could threaten her efforts to build trust among her men, to form a loyal team, a harem.

She glanced back at him. His brown eyes were fixed on the ground, his jaw set tight.

"Reyes," she said, her voice low but firm. "Watch the rear. If anything moves, I trust you’ll catch it."

His eyes met hers briefly, a flicker of trust breaking through his guarded expression. His voice was stiff, but he nodded. "Always, Princess."

Joel’s shoulder brushed hers, his voice quiet. "He’s still upset. Let him cool off."

Torren raised a hand, halting the group as the trail dipped into a gully, its sides thick with ferns and shadowed under dense trees.

"The Clan’s been quiet since the lodge," he said, gripping his sword. "Too quiet. My runners are checking the northern roads—watching caravans, looking for signs of troop movements."

"Keep tracking their supplies," Viana said. "It will tell us when they plan to strike."

She was focused on reaching the palace, gathering troops, and securing Joel and Reyes—there would be more to recruit soon.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. The mercenaries snapped to attention, raising their crossbows as a thin man stepped from the bushes. His blond hair was tousled by the wind, his sharp blue eyes full of mischief. His cloak was smeared with dirt from travel.

"Shane, long time no see," Joel said, gripping his arm with a small smile. "What’s the news?"

"The Clan’s backing off," Shane said, speaking quickly. His gaze flicked to Viana with interest as he leaned against a tree, grinning. "So you’re the princess causing all this trouble?"

Viana held his gaze, unreadable. Joel moved subtly in front of her, as if shielding her. "This guy is reliable," Joel said, "but don’t trust that smile too much."

Shane chuckled, but before he could respond, a mercenary shouted from the ridge. "Ambush! Riders, east side!"

The clash of steel echoed through the gully as mud and blood mixed underfoot. Torren’s mercenaries fired at the riders, bolts slicing through the air. Another attacker fell, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Viana gripped her dagger, scanning the chaos.

Joel had already sent one rider crashing into the mud, his blade cutting deep, while Reyes parried an incoming strike, his movements sharp and precise. Shane ducked behind a tree, pulling a dagger from his belt.

Torren swung his sword, catching a rider’s leg. The man tumbled from his horse, his shout cut short as a mercenary’s bolt lodged into his chest.

The remaining rides circled back, their formation tight, their eyes locked on viana.

"They’re targeting you!" Joel shouted, rushing to her side.

One rider, dressed in heavier armor than the others, spurred his horse forward. His sword gleamed as he charged straight at her.

Viana’s pulse quickened. She shifted her weight, gripping her dagger tighter.

Reyes moved first. He lunged at the rider, his sword striking the attacker’s wrist.

The man hissed in pain but held his grip. Before he could recover, Joel slammed into him, knocking him off balance. The horse reared, and the rider tumbled, rolling across the dirt.

Viana stepped forward, pressing her dagger to his throat before he could reach for his weapon. His helmet had slipped, revealing a scarred face and sharp gray eyes.

"Who sent you?" she demanded, her voice steady.

The rider spat into the mud. "You won’t reach Elysia."

Torren kicked the man’s sword away and motioned for his men to bind him. "We’ll get more out of him later."

Joel wiped his blade against his sleeve, his eyes scanning for more threats. Reyes stood rigid, his breathing heavy, tension still tight in his posture.

"We need to move," Shane said, eyeing the fallen riders. "More could be coming."

Viana nodded, glancing at the captives, who huddled behind a tree. Cooper clung to the older woman, his wide eyes full of fear.

"Let’s get to the palace before nightfall," Viana said, adjusting her cloak. "We don’t stop until we reach Elysia’s gates."

Torren’s men secured the prisoner while the others retrieved their weapons. Joel and Reyes exchanged a glance before falling into step beside her.

***

The group pushed forward, their pace quickening as the muddy forest trail gave way to the worn stone roads leading to Elysia’s capital. The towering city walls loomed ahead, their imposing structure bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun.

Viana pulled her hood lower, blending into the weary travelers passing through the outer gates. Torren’s mercenaries moved with practiced ease, their presence unnoticed among the caravan guards and merchants.

The captives, though exhausted, kept close, Cooper gripping the older woman’s hand as they entered the bustling streets.

Reyes and Joel flanked Viana, their eyes scanning every shadow, every movement. Shane slipped into the crowd, vanishing for a moment before returning with news.

"Guards at the palace gate have been doubled," he murmured, falling in step beside Joel. "Word’s spread fast. You showing up here, got people talking about you."

Viana’s stomach twisted, but she kept her pace steady. She had expected resistance—Arin’s influence had surely reached the palace long before she did.

Torren gestured toward a side street, leading them away from the main roads. "We enter through the old palace entrance," he said. "Fewer eyes."

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