[Afternoon]
Ovelia's POV
We had just emerged from the dense forest, the sunlight breaking through the canopy to bathe the green plains in a warm, golden glow. The air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and earth. Beneath the shade of a massive tree, we found the perfect spot to rest and enjoy lunch. The soft grass beneath us felt like a natural cushion, and the gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, creating a soothing melody.
Ann had prepared a delicious spread—rice, chicken fillet, fish, pancakes, and tarts—and we sat together, savoring the meal. The atmosphere was light, but I could feel the lingering tension from the earlier encounter with the werewolf bandits. It hung in the air like a shadow, unspoken but present.
"Ann, for now, can you please stop calling Ovelia a lady and Ray and I a sir?" Ace said, reaching for a piece of chicken fillet. His tone was playful, but there was a seriousness behind his words. He glanced at Ann, his silver eyes softening as he added, "Think of this as part of our mission. Given what happened earlier, it's best if you don't use our real names. If we run into anyone else, you can call me A, and Ray will be R."
Ann hesitated, her lips parting as if to protest, but Ray interrupted her with a calm yet firm tone. "Ace is right. We need to keep our identities hidden. We're too well-known as the first and second princes of the Silverhowl Kingdom. Using nicknames will help us blend in."
Ann nodded in agreement, though I could see the reluctance in her eyes. She was used to the formalities, the structure of titles and respect. But she understood the necessity of the situation.
As we continued eating, a question began to form in my mind, one that had been nagging at me since the encounter with the werewolves. I hesitated for a moment, then decided to voice it.
"Everyone," I said, catching their attention. They turned to me, their expressions curious but attentive. "Can I ask something?"
"Sure," they replied in unison, their voices overlapping in a chorus of encouragement.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "In a book I read when I was a child, it mentioned that every twenty years, many human women were sacrificed to werewolves, destined to become their mates or wives, all in the name of peace between humans and werewolves." I paused, studying their faces. They looked serious, their eyes focused on me as I continued. "I believe that peace is a state of harmony characterized by the absence of conflict, violence, and turmoil, fostering understanding and cooperation among individuals and communities. But earlier, I heard a werewolf mention selling beautiful humans at auctions, and I nearly lost my life during Ace's and my wedding when a massive black werewolf tried to kill me. I'm just left wondering… does true peace really exist between humans and werewolves?" My voice trembled slightly, tinged with sadness as I took a bite of my food.
The weight of my words hung in the air, the silence stretching as they absorbed the gravity of my concerns. The breeze seemed to still, as if even nature was holding its breath.
"That's—" Ace began, but Ray interrupted him, his expression somber.
"To be honest, the word 'peace' between humans and werewolves doesn't exist." Ray said, sighing as he reached for a pancake. His mood was heavy, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a solemn seriousness.
"But I think we humans have practiced the sacrifice of human women to werewolves for centuries," I murmured sadly, my eyes fixed on my plate. I couldn't bring myself to meet their gazes, afraid of what I might see—discomfort, guilt, or worse, resignation.
I glanced at Ann, Ray, and Ace. Their expressions revealed a blend of sorrow and guilt, a palpable tension hanging in the air.
"You won't truly understand why we call it peace if I don't share where it all began," Ray said, pouring himself a glass of juice. His voice was steady, but I could hear the weight of history in his words.
Once he finished his meal, Ray adjusted his seat, leaning forward as if preparing to tell a story he'd rather forget. "Long ago, humans were unaware of our existence. We lived peacefully, never transforming into our werewolf forms; we only blended with humans, existing in secret. But then, rumors began to swirl—one about a werewolf killing an innocent old woman. Her lifeless body was discovered near the Shadow Pack Kingdom. That was the moment humans realized werewolves existed. Fear spread like wildfire, igniting a war that claimed the lives of many. The hatred between humans and werewolves passed from generation to generation."
Ray's brow furrowed, the weight of his memories evident. "Years later, a human king—King Alfred Amber the Fifth of the Amethyst Kingdom—recognized the strength of the werewolves. In a desperate bid for peace, he proposed to the four kings of the other packs—Silverhowl, Crimsonheart, Wildfire, and Shadow—that every twenty years, each human family must sacrifice their daughter to maintain a fragile peace. Reluctantly, most of them agreed."
A silent moment followed, the gravity of Ray's words hanging heavily in our hearts.
"But the word 'peace' is merely a facade, a way to mask the troubling realities between humans and werewolves. Despite the sacrifices made for this so-called peace, many humans and werewolves still seek revenge, and this cycle never truly ends," Ann said, her voice tinged with sadness as she gazed out into the distance, lost in her thoughts.
Ace nodded, a fierce determination gleaming in his eyes. "Because of the human women sacrifices, many male werewolves have found their human mates. That's why people mistakenly believe it's a bridal sacrifice for werewolves. But the truth is, if a human isn't chosen as a mate, they become slaves—mere puppets for amusement. My father, King Raymond, suggested to the other packs that we abolish the sacrifice, but most werewolves disagree. They argue that if we remove it, the fragile peace we hold will shatter forever."
A deep sigh escaped my lips. "So, the word 'peace' between humans and werewolves exists only to lessen the hatred, not to resolve the core issues." I took a sip of my juice, allowing for a moment of reflection.
"Yes, that's the truth," Ace replied, his expression serious as he reached for a tart from the dessert platter.
Ray, trying to lighten the mood, exclaimed, "Ahhh, I'm so full! That food was delicious!" His voice was overly cheerful, an almost forced attempt to shift the somber atmosphere. It was clear he had finished his meal long before the others.
"Indeed, the food was amazing. Thank you, Ann," I chimed in, wanting to support Ray's attempt at changing the subject.
"It's always my pleasure," Ann smiled warmly, though her eyes still held a hint of sadness. Then she turned to me with a more serious tone, "Before I forget, lady Ovelia, it's time to tend to your arm."
As her voice softened, a wave of warmth enveloped the table, momentarily casting aside the shadows of our plight.
Instead of feeling pity for the human women who sacrificed themselves for the peace between humans and werewolves—like me—I felt grateful and proud of their bravery. They faced their fate head-on, striving to lessen the hatred between our kinds.
Ann retrieved the medical kit from inside the wagon and approached me, her brow furrowed in concentration. She rolled up my left sleeve and carefully removed the bandage.
"You heal incredibly fast. The last time I saw that wound, it was severe; the estimated healing time was a month. But now, I believe it'll be completely healed in just two weeks," Ray exclaimed, a look of disbelief crossing his face.
"I think so too," Ace chimed in, his mouth full as he savored the last bite of his meal.
"But you still smell human, Ovelia," Ray pointed out, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Hehehe, I'm not sure why I heal so quickly. Perhaps my body has just gotten used to being battered and bruised over time, so it heals fast," I replied, forcing a smile, tinged with both embarrassment and pride.
For a moment, I focused and tried to talk to Lady Firera mentally. "Lady Firera, is it because of you that my wounds heal so quickly?"
"No, you were born that way," Lady Firera replied in my mind, her voice calm but firm.
"Is it because my family can cast spells?" I asked mentally, but she didn't answer.
After our meal, Ann began to tidy up, and I joined her in cleaning the dishes. Once we finished, we hopped back into the wagon and continued our journey.
Ace's POV
I remember this road; it splits into two paths, one leading to Timberline Village. The thought of Ovelia's village stirred something in me—a mix of curiosity and dread.
I turned to her, my voice gentle but probing. "Ovelia, I've never set foot in your village. I only made it to the entrance on sacrifice day. Could you tell me what life is like there?"
She looked at me, her expression thoughtful. "Well... our village is simple. We rely on basic food because we lack the means to trade with other villages. We only receive different fruit seeds and vegetables when visitors from the Royal Family of the Amethyst Kingdom come to our village. We don't use money since everything we need for daily living is found in the village. Everyone pitches in; there's no greed for food. What one person cultivates, we all share, and the animals cared for by one are cared for by all. No one hoards there; everything belongs to everyone. We're also blessed with a river brimming with fish, so we never worry about what to eat, whether in drought or rain."
As she spoke, I could see joy in her eyes, tinged with a hint of sadness. It was the first time I'd ever heard of a village where money didn't exist and unity thrived. My curiosity about Timberline Village grew.
"Ray, I want to visit Timberline Village," I declared, excitement tingling in my chest.
"As you wish, Your Highness," Ray replied with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
But Ovelia's face shifted, surprise etching her features.
"But I have no reason to go back," she said, her voice carrying a weight of melancholy.
Ovelia lifted her gaze to meet mine, and I offered her a reassuring smile. Yet inside, I was a tempest of emotions, torn between curiosity and dread. How would I feel when I finally met Ovelia's parents? Would my wolf be overwhelmed by rage and a desire for revenge because they had hurt my mate, or would I find myself filled with gratitude and understanding instead? The question lingered, unanswered, as we continued our journey.