Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Deep within the palace of the Sassanid kingdom's capital.

Elena Sasan leaned against the windowsill, looking at the gray sky outside, and let out a long sigh.

As the younger sister of King Aldrich of the Sassanid Kingdom, she is seventeen years old, a level three warrior, and has beautiful long blonde hair and a pair of vibrant blue eyes.

And a heart that's bored out of its mind.

"So boring."

She rested her chin on her arm, looking as wilted as a dehydrated little flower.

That's life in the palace.

When she got up in the morning, the maids surrounded her to comb her hair, change her clothes, and put on makeup—although she always felt that she looked pretty even without makeup, no one listened to her.

Then he would go to the morning meeting with the Queen and listen to the noble ladies gossip about whose son married whose daughter, and how many children whose daughter had.

Lunch.

In the afternoon, she will either follow the etiquette teacher to learn those complicated court etiquettes,

Knowing what etiquette to follow and what to say in different situations was so complicated it gave her a headache.

She either practices swordsmanship with a swordsmanship teacher, which is one of the few things she enjoys.

I ate dinner again in the evening, and then went to sleep.

The same thing happened the next day.

"Aaaaaaah!"

Elena buried her head in the pillow and let out a muffled wail.

A maid knocked on the door: "Your Highness? Are you alright?"

"It's nothing!" Elena looked up, took a deep breath, "I was just... thinking about something."

The maid said "Oh," and her footsteps gradually faded away.

Elena leaned back onto the windowsill.

She recalled the news she had heard a couple of days ago: the Northern Legion had run into trouble at the front lines, apparently because a particularly powerful mage had single-handedly wiped out three thousand cavalrymen.

General Redmond is also dead.

"War..."

Elena's eyes lit up.

She has never fought in a war.

However, she had heard countless stories about war since she was a child.

Heroes charged into battle, fighting against hundreds; generals strategized and won victories from afar; after the victory, the people cheered and they were honored.

Every time she hears these stories, she gets excited.

But every time she tried to learn more, her father would interrupt her: "A girl shouldn't be thinking about these fighting and killing things."

Why can't girls think about war?

"I'm a level three warrior, after all!"

Elena grew angrier the more she thought about it.

Then an idea popped into her head.

A bold, crazy idea that her brother would lock her up if he found out.

"What if... I went to the front lines?"

"I'll just observe; I won't participate."

"Come back after you've finished watching."

She was startled by the thought.

But that thought, like a seed, took root in her mind and began to sprout.

That night, Elena tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

The next morning, she woke up with dark circles under her eyes.

The maids were startled: "Your Highness, did you not sleep well last night?"

"It's nothing, it's nothing," Elena waved her hand. "It was just a dream."

As she had the maids comb her hair, she was making plans in her mind.

Go to the front lines... how do I get there?

It's probably not a good idea to tell my brother directly; he'll most likely refuse.

If she sneaks out... the palace guards might find her, and what if they mistake her for an assassin and kill her?

Why don't we ask my brother first? Maybe he'll agree?

……

That afternoon, Elena knocked on the door of the King's study.

"Come in."

She pushed open the door and saw her brother, Aldrich, sitting at his desk looking at documents. He looked up, saw it was her, and smiled.

"Elena? What brings you here today?"

Elena walked to the desk, put her hands behind her back, and acted obediently.

"Brother, I have a request."

Aldridge raised an eyebrow: "What request?"

"I want to...I want to go to the front lines."

Aldridge's smile froze.

"What did you say?"

"I want to go to the front lines," Elena repeated, this time in a softer voice, "just to take a look, I won't cause any trouble. I'll come back after I'm done."

Aldridge put down his quill and stared at her for several seconds.

Then he spoke.

"no."

Why?

"Of course, it's because the front lines are dangerous." Aldrich stood up and walked over to her. "That's a battlefield, not a place for you."

"But I'm a level three warrior!"

"A third-level soldier is nothing on the battlefield!" Aldrich's tone hardened. "Do you think war is child's play? Do you think those stories are true?"

Elena was startled by his tone, but still muttered defiantly, "I just went to take a look..."

"You're not allowed to go," Aldrich interrupted her. "Stay in the palace. They'll bring you spoils after the war."

After saying that, he turned around and walked back to his desk to continue reading the documents.

Elena stood there, staring at his back, her eyes a little red.

"They actually forbid it!"

"If you won't let me, then I'll go myself!"

She turned and ran out.

……

Back in her room, Elena slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the bed.

"Why should I?!"

Why can't I go?!

"I'm seventeen, not a child!"

The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the angrier she became, the more she thought about it.

Then that thought popped into my head again.

"He told me not to go, but I'm going anyway."

Elena got out of bed and started rummaging through drawers and cupboards.

She pulled out a set of ordinary traveler's clothes and a short sword.

The short sword was a gift from her brother for her fifteenth birthday, and she had hardly ever used it.

She changed her clothes, hung the short sword at her waist, and looked at herself in the mirror.

"I hope no one will recognize me?"

Just as she was thinking, there was a knock on the door.

"Your Highness?"

Elena's eyes darted around.

"Come in."

The door opened, and a young lady-in-waiting walked in. Her name was Milia, and she was Elena's lady-in-waiting.

Milia is nineteen years old this year. She is pretty and has a gentle personality. She doesn't even dare to speak loudly, so it's very fun to bully her.

Milia was taken aback when she saw Elena's attire.

"Your Highness, what's wrong...?"

Elena didn't answer, but instead pulled something out from under her pillow and twirled it in her hand.

It was a ruby ​​about the size of a thumb, gleaming with a warm luster in the afternoon sunlight.

The moment Milia saw the gem, her face turned deathly pale.

She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, like a fish thrown ashore.

Elena watched her with a smile, tossing the gemstone back and forth in her hand.

"Milia, doesn't this gem look familiar?"

Milia's legs began to tremble.

She looked familiar, of course.

This is a gem from Princess Elena's many necklaces, which she secretly took a month ago.

At that time, her father lost money in business, and she was extremely anxious.

Having no other choice, and for the sake of her family, she took a gem from the jewelry box while Elena was taking a walk in the garden.