Shadow's Oath

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Chapter 80: Rusef

Charlon’s posture on the horse was crooked.

It was clear her side injury was serious.

Rusef asked her to explain what had happened.

No, "asked" was too soft a word—it was closer to demanding.

His tone resembled that of someone threatening a confession from a criminal.

He didn’t mean to sound that way, but it came out naturally.

‘I just want to keep her safe, so why does it always turn out like this?’

Charlon obediently recounted what had happened the day before.

From the moment they arrived at the temple with Aikob, who left saying it might not be the right one; to the ambush by the Tagda tribe; escaping into a narrow cave called the Snake Cave and hiding until morning; eventually being discovered and fleeing the cave—only to be rescued by Rusef’s cavalry just in time.

As soon as Charlon finished, Rusef knew.

It was a lie.

Not all of it, but some parts had either been deliberately omitted or altered.

‘She wasn’t like this when she was young…’

The last time Rusef had seen Charlon, she was just a six-year-old girl.

Back then, she was honest and pure.

But after years as a hostage in Triton and nearly a decade apart, Charlon had become highly skilled at lying.

‘I guess it’s just part of growing up.’

Even Rusef felt he’d become sly after living in the royal court.

‘You learn to lie to survive—especially to Mother.’

But now, Charlon was lying to him.

He could tell immediately from her subtle mannerisms and the way her gaze shifted.

“What was chasing you out of the cave?”

“Savages,”

Charlon replied curtly.

Previously, she had referred to the northern tribes as Geronians, not savages.

She even insisted that her brother use the same term.

But now, she deliberately used the word “savages.”

That was the first lie.

“Didn’t you say earlier that they looked like corpses?”

“They were filthy and grotesque like corpses.”

“And they were the ones chasing you?”

“Ra… Stuga held them off, but there were too many for him to handle.”

When Charlon mentioned Stuga, her words sounded awkward.

That was the second lie, but it wasn’t the important part.

“The savages attacking you when I arrived didn’t look particularly grotesque to me.”

“There were more of them earlier.”

“So the ones who attacked you when you first exited the cave were different from the ones I saw later?”

“Yes.”

“And where did the others go?”

“Stuga held them off.”

“There were too many of them, weren’t there?”

“There were too many, but he handled it well.”

Another lie.

“Anyway, we dealt with it. Did you struggle through the night?”

Rusef asked, circling back to the most suspicious part of her story.

“Nothing happened,”

Charlon emphasized.

That was the biggest lie.

What Rusef had asked was whether her side injury had caused her pain during the night.

He had phrased it vaguely on purpose.

If she misunderstood, she should have taken it to mean whether she was scared or in pain.

A truthful response would have been something like, “I was scared but managed,” or “It hurt, but I endured.”

Even a negative answer would have admitted fear or pain.

The answer “Nothing happened” was impossible.

It meant something had happened.

“Why were you so late? I thought you’d come sooner, Rusef,”

Charlon complained, grimacing and pressing her side.

“How’s the pain?”

Rusef asked, concerned.

“It feels like I’m being stabbed with an awl every time I talk.”

“Then stop talking. Soon, the carriage following us will catch up.”

“Riding in the carriage will jostle me even more. It’s better to stay on the horse.”

“Trust me. If you lie down inside the carriage, it’ll be more comfortable.”

“Just answer me. From the camp, it’s only two hours on horseback—one if you sprint. There must’ve been a reason for the delay. Is the prince safe?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? The prince is safe. At the very last moment, he tried to mount his horse to rescue you, but I ‘left him behind’ and came instead.”

Rusef deliberately took his time recounting the events of the previous night, trying to avoid letting Charlon realize he was probing her.

He wanted to understand why she was lying and who she was lying for.

The evening before, when Prince Demion and his party failed to return on time, Terdin immediately organized a unit to “welcome” them.

At that point, no one had suspected the prince was in danger.

Rusef had known that Aikob had brought provisions for dinner.

Up until that point, he had assumed Aikob’s capriciousness was the reason for the delay.

He thought the archbishop’s behavior was frivolous and unbecoming of someone of his stature, though not without concern.

So, in preparation for an emergency, he cooperated.

Terdin, however, was cautious.@@novelbin@@

At the camp, they had few cavalry units left to deploy.

If he left with those forces, Elum Village would be left undefended.

He had no choice but to be prudent.

Just as they were about to set out after sunset with no sign of the prince, a patrolman rushed in, reporting that Archbishop Aikob was fleeing from a Geronian warriors.

The news hit Rusef like a lightning bolt.

He asked for details, but the patrolman could only say he’d seen it from a distance.

He identified Aikob by his white robes, which stood out against the gray wasteland.

Terdin’s first question was whether Prince Demion was with Aikob.

The patrolman’s answer was vague: “I think so.”

He gave the same ambiguous response when asked about Charlon.

The camp was thrown into chaos.

Terdin assumed the archbishop wouldn’t have abandoned the prince and decided to head in that direction.

He also ordered word to be sent to the southern main camp for reinforcements.

The problem was that Aikob had fled east.

Had he gone south, Terdin’s unit would have encountered him quickly.

But because of the wrong direction, Terdin’s group spent the night chasing Tagda warriors, unable to return until dawn.

Left behind at the camp, Rusef was furious.

He blamed the Elum savages for the entire situation and threatened Ikarum, the village leader.

If anything happened to the prince or the princess, he vowed there would be dire consequences.

Ikarum reluctantly sent Dit, a young man known for his speed and knowledge of the temple’s location.

However, even Dit admitted it would be difficult to find the temple in the dead of night.

Despite this, Rusef decided to depart before dawn.

Yet he couldn’t shake the discomfort of knowing it was a Geronian warriors unit chasing Aikob.

He couldn’t fully grasp the situation at the temple.

It might all be a trap.

The enemy could be waiting for the camp to empty out, leaving it vulnerable to attack.

Though unlikely, there was still the risk of an uprising by the Elum villagers, who might try to recover their confiscated weapons, reclaim their dead animals, or retrieve the wolves that had been set free.

The haunting howls of those wolves and dogs could still be heard somewhere in the wilderness.

Rusef decided to wait for reinforcements from the southern main camp.

In the meantime, Terdin might rescue Aikob and return.

Either way, he wanted to be ready to act immediately.

By sunrise, with no signal from either side, Rusef was prepared to abandon Elum Village altogether.

Then Prince Demion appeared.

He explained the Tagda tribe’s ambush and how Charlon had ended up hiding in the cave on the mountainside.

Without hesitation, Rusef took Dit and rode off.

Demion tried to follow, but Rusef refused, saying,

“We have to ride at full speed, and you’ll slow us down.”

Even then, Demion insisted on mounting his horse.

But he couldn’t manage it.

He tried several times to lift himself into the saddle, but his body was too exhausted from the night’s exertions.

Rusef could have helped him mount or called another attendant, but instead, he pretended not to notice and rode off.

He glanced back several times but saw that the prince couldn’t keep up.

The soldiers at the camp would take care of him.

To Rusef, Demion wasn’t that important.

Even if he was Charlon’s betrothed!

They weren’t married yet, and even if they were, Rusef would have made the same decision.

It was fortunate that Charlon was safe, but looking at her current condition, he was frustrated they hadn’t arrived sooner.

“These savages will pay for what they’ve done,”

[Translator - Night]

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Rusef said, finishing his statement with determination.

“Be precise, Rusef. It’s not about Elum village. It’s the work of the Tagda tribe,”

Charlon snapped coldly.

She was still holding the reins in one hand and clutching her side with the other.

The thought of even a small scar marring her beautiful body was unbearable, and the idea that a fatal wound was now rotting her flesh filled him with sorrow and anger.

“How can you be so sure Elum isn’t involved?”

“If you saw and heard what I did, you’d think the same. Chief Jedrick did his best to protect me throughout the night…”

“All night? Are you sure nothing happened during the night?”

“I already told you! Nothing happened!”

Rusef laid a small trap, and Charlon fell into it without hesitation.

‘So something did happen with that man?’

Rusef glanced back at the two men riding at the end of the procession.

Charlon hadn’t been alone with the savage—there had been three of them together.

One of the three was the prince’s shadow, a bodyguard who, despite being irritatingly suspicious since yesterday, was undoubtedly loyal to the prince.

Knowing full well who Charlon was betrothed to, that bodyguard wouldn’t have allowed Charlon to be toyed with by another man, let alone a savage.

‘It might be true that nothing happened. But her feelings?’

Rusef spoke firmly.

“That so-called chief couldn’t possibly be uninvolved in this! He’s the one who guided you to the temple, the one who led you to that witch last night, and the one who translated Garon’s words into our language. He’s in a perfect position to scheme.”

“That’s not true! Jed... Jedrick has done more for this negotiation than anyone else. He’s made great sacrifices to protect his village and its people. He wouldn’t do something that would destroy his own village.”

“What sacrifices? He seems to have gained great power as a young chief. What kind of sacrifice is that?”

“You don’t understand their customs, Rusef. Being a chief isn’t about enjoying power like our kings do.”

“Then explain. What sacrifices did he make? Did he cut off a hand or something?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then what?”

“…I can’t say. I promised not to.”

A carriage approached in the distance.

Rusef thought about pressing Charlon further but decided against it.

He couldn’t bear to watch her desperately defend that man any longer.

“Get in the carriage.”

“I’ll keep riding.”

“Get in.”

Rusef spoke in a commanding tone.

Though her expression was reluctant, Charlon complied.

‘She hasn’t changed at all since she was six. If she’s not being stubborn now, it’s because she’s saving her defiance for something that really matters. And that something is probably him.’

Charlon struggled to dismount, clearly in pain.

She had often pretended not to be hurt just to keep playing, but she had never exaggerated a minor injury.

“Give me your hand.”

Rusef naturally took her hand, but she quickly yanked it back with a hiss of pain, clenching her fist.

Sensing something was off, he grabbed her wrist and examined her palm.

A long gash ran across it.

“What happened here?”

“I scraped it on a rock.”

Charlon quickly pulled her hand away.

‘Another lie.’

If it had been any other lie, he might have let it slide.

If she’d said she hurt herself while fighting savages with a sword, he might have believed her.

Even if it wasn’t true, he would’ve let it go.

If she’d claimed to have cut her hand peeling the skin of a magical fruit from an ancient tree in the cave, he’d have found it intriguing and pretended to believe her.

But a rock?

What kind of rock could be so sharp?

The angle of the cut suggested it was self-inflicted.

What could have happened in that cave to make her cut her own hand?

“Swing both legs off the saddle. I’ll lift you.”

Charlon obeyed without protest, her compliance an effort to hide her lie.

Rusef had to carry her to the carriage like a doll.

Her body, which had always smelled as sweet as roses, now gave off a faint scent of rotting flesh.

His anxiety peaked, and his anger flared again.

He wanted to take all the knights of Born and charge at those Tagda savages right then and there.

But strictly speaking, this wasn’t his army—it belonged to King Gallant.

And he was here not to fight the savages but to protect Charlon, replacing Dumar, the original commander.

Just as he tried to suppress his anger, Charlon made him snap.

“Don’t go after Jedrick like that again. He’s done nothing wrong. Don’t make the same mistake as with Max.”

That incident happened when Rusef was ten, and Charlon was six.

Rusef’s beloved dog, Max, had died from poison.

The gardener’s son had clearly been the culprit—he’d hated Max and had been bitten by the dog not long before.

Rusef had beaten the boy nearly to death with a club.

But it turned out that the poison had been placed by the butler.

He’d added an herb that was harmless to dogs but deadly to rats.

Unfortunately, Max was a strange dog who ate everything, even that herb.

Rusef had apologized to the gardener’s son.

The gardener forgave him, and the son did too—but they couldn’t truly forgive him.

The son had to limp for the rest of his life.

It was a mistake Rusef would regret forever, one he preferred never to talk about.

Yet Charlon had just brought it up.

Did she forget it was a sensitive topic after ten years?

Impossible.

Charlon wasn’t the type to forget.

She brought it up deliberately.

To stop him from going after Jedrick, to redirect his anger at herself.

‘I know this girl. Once she sets her mind to something, she doesn’t stop until it’s done.’

At six, she was already different from other children.

She’d dig in the dirt from dusk till dawn, redraw the same picture until it was perfect, and build her own castle in the garden, endlessly piling up dirt.

Even when General Terdin’s army surrounded Born’s castle, she hadn’t stopped.

After ten years, Rusef had expected her to change.

To care about dresses, pretend to like flowers, and strategize about gaining men’s attention, like other women.

But Charlon’s first words to Rusef upon his return to Born’s manor weren’t, “I’m glad you’re back,” but, “I finally finished it!”

In those ten years, she had built a castle of dirt with two towers and a sign reading, “I’m glad Rusef is back!” hastily placed at the top.

Rusef had pretended to be happy, but he wasn’t.

‘If Charlon were a boy, Father would have named her the heir to the duchy. Mother would have adored her. But she’s a girl. A woman who can’t accomplish anything. How much more would Father regret this than I do?’

Rusef nodded at Charlon.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Promise me you won’t touch Jedrick.”

“I promise.”

“Really?”

“Have I ever broken a promise?”

Rusef smiled, and Charlon nodded.

“No.”

Rusef closed the carriage door.

‘I’ve lied, too. You don’t know how many promises I had to break to survive as a hostage in Tamperton over the past ten years.’

Charlon was starting to build her castle again.

This time, with the resolve to keep building for ten years if needed.

‘Prince Demion mustn’t find out.’

Rusef deliberately didn’t look back at the procession.

‘I must stop Charlon. But how can you stop the heart of a woman in love?’

Rusef’s mind grew tangled with calculations.

‘…Getting rid of that man might be easier.’

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