Leah remembered what she had been doing at this time.
Kurkan slaves.
She had been trying to put a stop to the slave trade, and used various methods to rescue them.
This midnight operation had almost ended in disaster, when the slavers rebelled against her infiltrators. Leah herself had almost been seriously injured.
It was more dangerous than anything she had ever done before, and she knew that for all the drastic actions she took, there were more slavers hiding in the shadows. But all the slaves had been rescued this time, and there was one in particular that she remembered from this mission.
Ishakan.
“I must go,” Leah said firmly. Countess Melissa’s mouth moved like she wanted to object, but she sighed.
“Very well.”
Unlike her worried lady-in-waiting, Leah was excited. Her heart pounded at the thought of her husband. Even if it was only in dreams, she would get to see him again.
The same day she had rescued him, she had spotted Blain with his golden hair showing, and then Cerdina had cast a spell that made her forget everything that had happened that day. Though her memories had come back when the spell was broken, they were still vague and muddled. She could not remember how she had rescued Ishakan.
Leah wanted to remember every moment of it.
Now this dream felt like a blessing.
* * *
Clouds covered the light of the moon.
Leah led her soldiers, searching for the slavers’ base. The plan was to infiltrate it and rescue the slaves. But a fierce battle soon began when they were discovered. The slavers had hired mercenaries who were willing to resist to the death, knowing their punishment if they had been caught.
But Leah knew the outcome of the battle, so she calmly made her way to where her husband was imprisoned. Ishakan was trapped in the depths of the dungeon.
The idea that this was a dream made her immune to fear, despite the deadly danger. Even in reality, she had done the same.
Finally, she arrived.
The dreary underground was dark, and moist air filled her lungs. She shivered as a chill ran down her spine.
The sight of the round wooden door in the floor made her furious.
“Ishakan…”
She wanted him out of there.
But it wasn’t easy. She had found the key to the lock, but opening the door was difficult. The wooden door was heavy and its hinges were probably rusted, and she couldn’t move it no matter how hard she pulled.
How had she done it last time?
When she looked around in panic, she spotted the long iron bar. It was the same poker they used to punish the Kurkan slaves.
Leah used it as a lever to get the door open. Hauling with all her might, she told herself over and over that if she had done it this way in the past, she could do it again now.
Leah used the iron poker as a lever to open the door.
As she tried with all her might, she remembered it repeatedly. If she had opened the door this way in the past, she could do it again. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped on the floor, and she let out a gasp.
One more time, she strained, ignoring the pain in her arms. With a rattle, the door finally opened.
She looked down into the hole.
Inside was a small, thin, battered boy.