WMMAP: нєανєη'ѕ ¢нιℓ∂

6: ʙʀɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴏᴘᴇꜱ.

To all the ends. 

Dust rises behind her small figure as she jumps down from the cart, a carriage being too conspicuous anywhere else but the capital, and she finds herself wandering through a small town with colorful Obelian flags.

She was slightly awkward, having never ventured this far from the palace before, but something inside her manages quite well.

The people seemed to part before her, even though she never gestured for anyone to move out of her way. Just the motion of her walk was enough for people to take a quick glance and take notice, that this small cloaked figure shouldn't be approached haphazardly.

Only one person doesn't get the memo when he saunters up to her and purposefully knocks into her with a snigger.

The man she had just apprehended lets out a strangled, "I- I'm not someone you can just manhandle!"

Athanasia looks him up and down, slow as she could go, before replying, "Oh, are you now?" and she hears agreeing sniggers from behind her.

He manages to smirk in his uncomfortable situation with a boastful remark. "I'm Count Gordus' eldest son! I'm-!"

He's cut off when he's snatched from her mana-less grasp and pulled to someone else's side. "You idiot, I told you not to go running off while I was at the adventurer's guild!"

The new person turns to Athanasia, still hooded, but her small figure makes him take a pause.

"Has there been a misunderstanding between my son and you-?" Clearly waiting for a name to refer to, Athanasia doesn't bother answering him, only reaching out to grasp him by the collar and pulling him to directly face her.

"What in heaven's name are you doing-?!"

Athanasia had taken a gamble when she had heard his name from his son's lips, because unlike his son, the count was known to be a honest man, straightforward, and most unusually rare for a member of nobility- he was neutral.

And that was something she needed right now.

When bright mauve eyes meet gem blue all complaints that might have come out stop in its tracks immediately, and onlookers can see the count go unnaturally still in the hands of the small figure opposite him.

"Father, what are you doing, letting a ruffian like that-" Athanasia releases the count's collar and steps back, tilting her head so he can see her smile.

The count's hands tremble before he grits his teeth in agitation at his bloodline and smacks his son across the back of his head. "Father-OW- what?!"

"You blithering oaf- you don't even know who this person is, and you dare to question them!?"

"Father, I don't understand! Why aren't you teaching them a lesson, they don't even look like they're a noble-?"

A nervous look back at Athanasia who still hadn't moved, and the count bows shakily. "I sincerely apologize for my son's rudeness, please-a-anything but the death penalty for his ignorance-"

The son looks up at his father, outraged and more likely confused than anything as were the surrounding folks. Who was this mysterious person, and how high was their rank that the death penalty would be mentioned from a small incident like this?

From under the cloak a small, pale hand lands upon his shoulder, telling him to raise his head. And a whisper that only the count could hear, follows.

"I know you have a daughter."

Her words make him puzzled, his eyebrows moving up in question as he moves to answer her, but she stops him with a wave of her hand, motioning for him to listen.