At the door stood Ethan Rathsture, draped in a black cloak with its hood pulled over his head. His expression was dark and cold, almost devoid of emotion. The moment he saw Riven, he spoke in a quick but controlled tone, .

“Apologies for disturbing your rest. You’d better wake your sister now… or just carry her.”

Riven narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp, asking a single unspoken question: Why?

Ethan didn’t hesitate. He immediately replied, “I’ll explain on the way. Right now, we need to move. This is for your sister’s safety… and yours as well.”

Riven stared at the man for a moment. He knew Ethan wasn’t the type to joke or act without reason. And if someone like Ethan appeared in person in the middle of the night just to take him away, then something truly urgent must be happening.

Without saying a word, Riven gave a nod. He turned around and gently lifted his sister from the bed. The girl was still sound asleep, her face peaceful like that of a baby. That was Melly—once she fell asleep, even a storm wouldn’t wake her. And Riven had no intention of waking her forcefully.

With practiced ease, he cradled his sister like a princess, making sure her head rested comfortably against his chest.

They walked through the halls of the Rathsture estate, their steps brisk but quiet. Only the faint sound of boots against stone echoed behind the thick walls.

In silence, Riven pondered.

He already had a guess as to what was going on.

A few days earlier, from a conversation between servants he had overheard, he learned that the Mordune Kingdom’s forces had crossed the border and entered Iskandrite territory. They were moving fast and with coordination—and the next target was said to be the city of Glimfell, where he was now.

Even worse, there were darker rumors. Whispers that the nobles had started forming their own factions—secretly conspiring, toppling one another, even planning to seize the royal throne.

A fleeting image of Ashtoria passed through his mind.

Riven hoped that woman was alright… and that she had succeeded in her plan to purge all the traitors that were rotting the kingdom from within. He knew it wasn’t an easy plan. But if there was anyone strong enough to pull it off, it was Ashtoria Iskandrite.

Their steps continued through the winding corridor. The air grew damper, and the sounds from the surface grew more distant. Ethan finally stopped at the end of the passageway, pressing a hidden section of the stone wall.

A crack appeared. A soft click echoed as the wall slowly rotated, revealing a narrow staircase descending into the underground.

“Go in,” Ethan said curtly.

Riven tightened his hold on Melly and stepped into the passage without hesitation. As soon as he entered, Ethan followed and sealed the hidden entrance behind them. The only source of light now was the flickering glow of oil lamps mounted on the narrow walls.

Their footsteps echoed as they walked. The tunnel was narrow and damp, but solid—as though it had been built decades ago.

As they walked, Ethan began to speak, his voice low but firm.

“This estate is no longer safe. Very soon, chaos will erupt in this city. Outside forces are moving fast. And some nobles within the kingdom are starting to show their fangs. My father and I agreed that you need to be hidden.”

He cast a quick glance at Riven.

“We’ve prepared a carriage outside the city. You’ll leave with my mother, Daphne, and Lyanna. The destination is secret. No one knows about it except me, my father, and my mother. So there’s no need to worry.”

Riven gave a silent nod.

He understood.

At the end of the tunnel, they reached a solid wall that looked like the terminal point of the passage. Ethan stepped forward, pushed a slightly protruding stone, and revealed a hidden lever.

He pulled it slowly.

An ancient mechanism groaned, and suddenly the ceiling above them opened—revealing a narrow shaft leading straight to the surface. Moonlight spilled in through the gap, telling them night was still far from over.

But there were no stairs. Only a sheer stone wall.

Riven looked up. He prepared to climb carefully without waking Melly.

But before he could adjust his grip, Ethan moved faster.

Without warning, Ethan slipped his hands under Riven’s arms and said in his usual flat tone,

“My apologies for the inconvenience.”

And with one leap, he soared upward—Riven and Melly in tow—through the narrow opening and out into the night. Riven instinctively tightened his hold on Melly, keeping her safe during the ascent.

Once they reached the surface, the hole closed behind them, sealing shut like it was never there. The night air was colder outside, and Riven realized something important—they were now beyond the Rathsture estate.

The three of them walked swiftly but calmly, blending into the late-night crowds of Glimfell. The streets were still busy despite the hour, filled with merchants, patrolling guards, and anxious citizens. Beneath the noise and movement, Riven could sense something heavy hanging in the air.

The city felt grim. People walked faster, eyes hollow, and the only voices heard were frantic whispers.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

“The kingdom is in chaos… there’s nowhere left to run…”

“I heard Mordune is about to invade this city…”

“If war really breaks out… what will happen to us…”

The fear-laden words lingered in the air, pressing down on Riven’s chest. He held Melly a little tighter, making sure the little girl stayed warm and undisturbed in his arms.

After several minutes of walking, they reached the city’s outskirts. The streets grew quieter, buildings more scattered, and silence replaced the city’s bustle. Ethan slowed down and led them into a narrow alley that appeared to be a dead end.

Without a word, he knelt before an old stone wall that had nearly fused with the earth. His hands searched for a specific spot, then applied pressure.

A mechanism clicked.

The base of the wall opened, revealing a hidden door just large enough for one person to slip through. Ethan glanced back and gestured for Riven to go first.

Riven didn’t hesitate. He ducked and slipped outside, ensuring Melly stayed safe in his arms. The night air greeted them with a sharp chill—but also with relief.

They had made it out of the city.

Once all of them were outside, Ethan closed the hidden door. The wall returned to its original form, as though nothing had ever moved.

They stood behind bushes and large rocks near the outer edge of Glimfell’s wall.

Not far from where they stood, a simple horse-drawn carriage waited beneath the shadow of an old tree. A small lantern hung at the front, casting just enough light to reveal the tense, grim face of the young driver.

He was one of the knights of House Rathsture—possibly the one Ethan had mentioned earlier as they walked. The man had been about to rest when Aiden Rathsture himself called for him and ordered him to take the carriage out of the city.

Near the carriage door, Aiden Rathsture stood, speaking softly to someone inside. His silhouette remained firm and imposing, though his face showed signs of fatigue and quiet resolve.

Still holding Melly, Riven approached. When he reached the side of the carriage, he looked inside. Lyanna sat in the corner with a serious expression. Beside her, Daphne sat with her head lowered. Across from them sat a poised, elegant woman with dark brown hair streaked with gray. Though age had touched her features, her skin remained smooth, and her face radiated both grace and command.

This was Sally Rathsture, Aiden’s wife and the mother of Ethan and Lyanna.

Her eyes immediately found Riven and Melly, and she gave a small nod, wordlessly inviting them inside.

Riven stepped into the carriage without a word. He sat down carefully, still holding Melly against his chest. Ethan remained outside with his father.

Aiden didn’t close the door immediately. He gazed into the carriage—for a moment looking at his family, then at Riven. His blue eyes were filled with emotion, yet steady.

In a deep voice tinged with raw feeling, he said,

“Please… take care of yourselves. No matter what happens, do not return to this city unless you receive a direct order from me. And if I never send word…”

He paused, looking his children in the eye.

“Live. Survive. No matter the cost.”

The carriage door closed.

With a snap of the reins, the carriage began to move. The wooden wheels clattered over rough ground, slowly carrying them away from the city of Glimfell.

Riven leaned his head back against the carriage wall, his gaze falling on Melly—still fast asleep in his arms. The gentle creak of the wheels became the only sound that filled the night.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep