Chapter 243: Saving the Princess Consort

They reminisced about the past and chatted for a while. However, much remained to be handled, and Oliver had duties to attend to. Anthony, after giving the elixir to the girl in green, slipped away to manage his own affairs. Hearing that the princess consort had been killed, he initially intended to inform Doug she was still alive. But remembering the girl's earnest plea, he remained silent.

He couldn't keep secrets for long, though. Finding an opportune moment, he quietly entered Isolde's room. "Are you feeling any better?" he asked, sitting on the stool beside her bed. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he wrung the water from his clothes.

"I took the medicine, so I'm feeling better," Isolde replied. Noticing the blood on his arm, she asked, "Have you treated your wound?"

"It's nothing!" Anthony said, only then noticing the cut. He recalled being slashed earlier, but since the wound wasn't deep, he'd ignored it.

"How is it?" Isolde asked, her gaze intense.

"What do you mean?" Anthony asked, puzzled.

"How did it feel to be in battle?"

Thinking back, Anthony scoffed. "That was supposed to be a battle? It felt more like a street brawl to me." He chuckled, revealing his white teeth.

"Of course, it was a battle, a dangerous one at that. Though, there are wars far more perilous," Isolde countered.

Anthony glanced at her. "Have you fought in many battles? How do you know so much?"

Isolde nodded. "Life itself is a battle. You're either fighting others or fighting yourself."

Anthony frowned. "Too complicated. I don't get it."

Isolde chuckled. "Not understanding is a good thing. But eventually, you will."

Anthony shook his head. "I don't get that either."

His life was simple. If he liked something, he pursued it; if not, he fought it. When they were younger, they'd once fought privately. He lost but refused to admit defeat. Isolde soundly beat him, pinning him to the grass and demanding his surrender. He said nothing; she took his silence as surrender, letting him go. Exhausted, they lay on the grass. He chewed on a blade of grass, staring at the endless blue sky. At that moment, he thought Isolde would be his lifelong enemy.

Afterward, he often dreamed of being pinned down by her, her fierce voice demanding surrender. For a long time, he believed it a nightmare. Later, he realized it had always been a beautiful dream.

Those days were gone, as was that wild, untamed girl, like the wind itself. Back then, her love and hate were fierce and unmistakable. She'd glare with wide, determined eyes and throw a punch without hesitation. When she laughed, it was loud and carefree, like the ringing of silver bells, bright and clear enough to be heard all the way to his village.

But now, she seemed composed, sometimes distant. It felt as if she'd lived through too much, becoming someone entirely different. She was no longer the reckless girl from Belleview Manor who'd never known hardship. And she no longer laughed like that.

For the first time, Anthony found himself in deep contemplation. It wasn't until Isolde asked, "Why did you come looking for me?" that he remembered his purpose.

Glancing around to ensure no one was near, he lowered his voice. "People say Kamari killed his wife because she refused to join his rebellion. But I saw her in the back courtyard. She's still alive, barely hanging on, with her daughter. I asked Oliver for medicine and gave it to her; she should survive. But her daughter begged me not to tell anyone. What do you think I should do?"

Isolde listened quietly. She'd thought Ashley killed her, but hadn't expected Kamari himself. She knew this woman; she had a gentle and kind heart. It was true; she had nothing to do with Kamari's rebellion.

After a long pause, Isolde spoke. "Since everyone believes she's dead, let her remain so. Do you have any money? Help them escape secretly. Have them change their appearances. Hector and my uncle will likely order a full search soon, so they must leave immediately."

"Me? Escort them?" Anthony was stunned.

Isolde sighed softly. "Life is bitter. If you can lend a hand, do it. This isn't a matter of principle. There's no harm in helping. Go on."

Anthony glanced at his sleeve pocket, where he had about twenty taels of silver. "That should be enough."

"Good. Tell them not to go back for anything. Wealth is an external possession. What matters most is their lives. They need to escape, find a safe place, and keep a low profile," Isolde instructed.

Anthony hesitated. "But the princess consort is seriously injured. I can't get them both out alone."

"Find Vincenzo and ask for his help. I'll inform our master that you're on an errand," Isolde said.

Anthony nodded. "Alright, I'll go now."

Vincenzo was known for reliability. When he and the others returned, they brought an ox-cart. Hearing Anthony relay Isolde's instructions, Vincenzo immediately pulled the cart to the back gate. He went to the servants' quarters, grabbed some clothes, and handed them to the girl in green. "Change into these, and help the princess consort change as well."

This girl was the youngest daughter of Kamari's consort, Princess Wilona, who had just turned fifteen. Though young, she was more mature than her older siblings. When chaos erupted and her mother was taken, she quietly followed, climbing onto a high platform and hiding behind a pillar, witnessing Ashley strike down her mother. Any other fifteen-year-old might have screamed, but Wilona didn't. She clamped a hand over her mouth, tears silently streaming down her face as she carefully climbed down.

She'd completely abandoned her dignity as a princess when begging Anthony. She'd considered doing anything, even sacrificing herself, to help her mother escape. But, to her surprise, Anthony asked for nothing in return; he simply took her and her mother away.

As the ox-cart pulled away from Kamari's estate, she glanced back once. Then, she lowered her head, tending to her unconscious mother.

Vincenzo and Anthony took the mother and daughter to East Bridge Town, found a simple inn, and rented a room for a month. One month cost two taels of silver. The two men emptied their pockets, giving Wilona over thirty taels.

Anthony warned her repeatedly, "The Marshal has made it clear. You must never return to Zloimond City after escaping. She let you go secretly. If you go back and are caught, you'll drag her down with you. So, once your mother recovers, flee somewhere safe and live quietly. This silver isn't much, but it should sustain you for a year. This is as far as we can help; the rest is up to you."

After all she'd been through, Wilona had developed a deep wariness toward others. But she hadn't expected such kindness. She dared not accept the silver, quickly pushing it back. "There's no need. I have kept my mother's and my own hair ornaments. Selling them will fetch us a few hundred taels. I am forever indebted to you both and the Marshal. I will never forget this kindness. If there is a next life, I will repay you."

Anthony firmly pressed the silver into her hands. "Your mother still needs a doctor. Take it for now. Save your jewelry and sell it only after you've settled somewhere safe."

With that, he grabbed Vincenzo and strode away. Tears welled in Wilona's eyes as she called out, "You're my benefactor. What's your name?"

"Anthony! And don't call me benefactor!" he shouted back without turning around.