Provoking a Graceful Bloom Novel

---- Chapter 146 This campaign against the bandits had been placed under Freya's command. The fifteen thousand soldiers who marched with her were all Frederick's own men. At first, they bristled in silence. To follow the daughter of a bandit chief was an insult few could stomach, though none dared speak the thought aloud. Their resentment deepened when after they arrived at Hartshire, she ordered them straight into battle without rest after a sleepless night. The men carried their grievances heavily, yet they obeyed. And to their astonishment, Freya led them to swift victory.

The bandits stationed outside the city were routed with ease, driven headlong into the mountain ravines. Her boldness, so unexpected, quickly earned the grudging respect of many. Thus, when she commanded the army to press their advantage and pursue into the mountains, hesitation flickered among the ranks, but no one defied her. Weary though they were, the men followed. But the deeper they marched, the more unease crept in. "Your Highness, the tracks ahead suggest scarcely more than a hundred, perhaps two hundred men have passed this way," William warned for the second time.

---- "Impossible," came the sharp reply. All of them saw no fewer than a thousand bandits. How could they vanish? There were no side paths here. A lone man might slip away by some hidden trail, but an army couldn't. And what could William mean by a hundred, perhaps two hundred men? Frederick's expression hardened. "Is it one or two hundred?" William lowered his head, uneasy. "The ground is treacherous, Your Highness. The traces are confusing. Perhaps a little more than one hundred, perhaps two or even three. It is difficult to judge." "Fools! A margin so vast?

What are my scouts doing, that they cannot give a true report?" Frederick thundered. William sighed in frustration, struggling to find the right words. " By the scouts' estimate, it should be around two hundred. | went to inspect as well, but it is truly difficult to determine an exact number, Your Highness." "The tracks are plain as day. How could they be so far astray? In the past..." Frederick broke off, the words catching in his throat. William cast him a furtive glance but held his tongue. He knew well enough what Frederick meant.

In the past, Selena herself would have conducted the ---- inspections. William had never ceased to admire her eye. One sweep across the ground and she could tell at once the number of men who had passed, as precise as if she had counted them herself. For a band of two or three hundred, her margin of error wouldn't exceed five people. But that was then. Selena was no longer with them. Frederick's silence betrayed the same thought, and the subject was abruptly dropped. Yet another question rose, one that wouldn't be so easily dismissed.

"If no more than two or three hundred passed this way, then where are the rest? A thousand entered these mountains. Where have they gone?" the prince asked. "Precisely, Your Highness. That is why | believe something is amiss," William replied. They had brought over ten thousand men. At first, the idea of so many soldiers pursuing only a thousand rebels had felt frustrating, Fortunately, they defeated every group of brigands that stood in their way. In the end, only about a thousand remained in the mountain range But now, the scouts reported that only two or three hundred were ahead.

Fifteen thousand men chasing so few? It was utterly absurd. ---- William's thoughts turned darker still. "Your Highness, though our advance has been swift, it occurs to me that we've slain very few. Most fled at the sight of us, and only a few dozen were struck down." "Preposterous!" Freya exclaimed, her face flushed with indignation. "Throughout this campaign, | have seen every bandit brought to heel! We have slain at least several hundred!" William shook his head in exasperation. "Ms. Talmar, the truth is plain. Very few were killed. The greater part escaped."