The Sultan, Kilij Arslan, was in a foul mood.

'My sister chose to retreat...'

While he could understand her decision, it still left him unsettled. An unavoidable discomfort kept gnawing at him.

This nameless emotion he couldn't explain—Arslan could only guess it stemmed from his failure to read the mind of his "sister," whom he thought he knew better than anyone.

"At this rate, we'll soon reach the marshlands."

"Yes, the Roman army is probably crossing it as we speak."

The Romans would likely attempt to join forces with the detachment near Salarma. To do so, they would have to cross the marshes near Iconium.

This time of year, the marshes always formed a massive river. The Roman army, lacking proper river-crossing equipment, would undoubtedly waste precious time there.

"Should we send mounted archers ahead to disrupt their crossing?"

"No, that won't be necessary. The Romans surely have their own countermeasures."

His clever sister wouldn't attempt to cross a river without preparation.

There was no reason to risk dividing the main force and being defeated piecemeal.

"From now on, we'll advance cautiously, watching for ambushes. We don't know what tricks the cunning Romans might employ."

With Elchanes, who had been under Danishmend, rejoining them, Arslan's forces now exceeded fifteen thousand.

Now he needed only one thing: to avoid falling for the Princess's schemes and commit all his forces to the upcoming full-scale battle.

'This time, I won't be so easily defeated.'

Arslan himself remained vigilant, thoroughly scanning his surroundings. Though darkness had fallen, the bright full moon illuminated everything clearly.

With this visibility, he felt reassured they wouldn't fall victim to an ambush. With that comfort, Arslan spurred his horse forward, anticipating the battle ahead and imagining his sister's crestfallen expression when captured.

And not long after—

"The labarum! Roman troops spotted!"

The news he had been desperately waiting for arrived.

It was the shout of a scout riding at the vanguard. Simultaneously, the horn signaling enemy detection blared loudly.

Arslan immediately raised his hand in a signal. He was ordering the troops to regroup and announcing that he would take the lead.

As officers shouted to relay the Sultan's orders, Arslan proudly took his position at the front. Just then, the trees that had been blocking their view cleared, revealing the marshland panorama before his eyes.

"...Huh?"

But the scene that unfolded before him completely defied Arslan's expectations.

Two torches standing firmly in the middle of the bridge, emanating a proud aura as if they had been waiting for them.

And beneath them was clearly...

"Sister?"

It was the Princess. The Roman legion's commander-in-chief. Despite the considerable distance, Arslan immediately recognized her distinctive attire.

"The one beside her is Rome's Caesar, Nikephoros."

Elchanes's voice followed. True to his experience fighting Rome since the previous Sultan's reign, his voice carried absolute certainty.

Retreat, Princess, Caesar, on the bridge, confidence.

Amid these disconnected words, Arslan momentarily fell into confusion.

The sensations were too vivid to be a dream, yet he felt as though he were dreaming—an absurd nightmare.

Even in that moment, the distance continued to shrink. And when they were within 3 stadia (600m) of the bridge, Arslan instinctively realized:

His sister was smiling at them.

Only then did reality return to him, and Arslan finally accepted the harsh truth, gritting his teeth.

'What are you plotting, Sister!'

The conclusion was obvious.

Clearly, his cunning sister was scheming something.

※※

"What if they start shooting arrows at us?"

"Then Haakon, you'll have to take the lead. Chopping arrows with your axe—you can do that much, right?"

"...Me?"

Haakon's expression suggested I was talking nonsense.

What, he can't even do that? I gave him a look of disappointment. Then Nikephoros suddenly joined the conversation.

"I'll protect the Princess with my shield."

Nikephoros had borrowed a shield from the tallest soldier in the unit, who doubled as an archer and tank. The shield in his hands was visibly larger than me, almost the size of a door.

When he tilted the shield, it completely blocked my view.

"...Then what about me?"

"You'll just have to manage on your own."

The two men stared at each other after this brief exchange.

Well, it was reassuring that they could still joke in this situation. I looked at both of them and said:

"Don't worry, the Sultan won't shoot arrows at me."

Setting aside my personal trust in that guy, in this romantic medieval era, no one would dare bear the infamy of "killing the unarmed Roman Princess with arrows."

"I think so too. Someone lacking even that basic discernment couldn't have risen to his position in the first place."

Nikephoros nodded vigorously in agreement. His gaze turned toward the Sultan's forces, which were slowly closing the distance with us.

Despite having reduced the gap to about 2 stadia, they seemed to be deliberately slowing their pace, dawdling.

"The Sultan clearly looks confused. He's gripping his reins tightly and exchanging words with Elchanes."

Though I could barely make out their silhouettes from this distance, Nikephoros read the situation as clearly as if he were watching a broadcast.

Is this what they call eagle eyes? Nodding in admiration, I stared intently at the figure at the front who appeared to be the Sultan.

"Ah, they're moving again."

Not long after, the Sultan's forces began to move again.

They approached to about 1 stadium from us before halting again.

Now we could faintly make out their faces. Soon, the Sultan, accompanied by only two of his generals, began slowly walking toward us.

"The Sultan is coming himself. You two won't need to step in."

Since the Sultan was coming personally, there was no need for the sniper and super-axeman to demonstrate their martial prowess. Now all that was needed was the Princess's acting skills.

By now, I too began to feel tension rising. I took a deep breath and clenched my fists to steady my nerves even slightly.

This was the real beginning of the battle of nerves. If I showed any sign of weakness—that we had nothing up our sleeves—everything would be over.

To ensure a safe retreat without major casualties, I had to successfully bluff in this moment.

"Do you remember Plans 1 through 3?"

By now, I could feel the Sultan glaring at me. Without turning around, I quietly asked.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Both men answered promptly. Fortunately, there seemed to be no major issues.

"You're late."

Having finally prepared myself mentally, I raised my voice forcefully. The Sultan had just dismounted from his horse in front of the bridge.

"...Hah."

The Sultan's brother's first utterance was neither acknowledgment nor greeting, but a snort tinged with irritation. He briefly exchanged glances with the generals at his sides, then began striding toward me.

"Sometimes I think you're truly mad, Sister."

That was the Sultan's true first statement.

"Sister?" "Sister?" "Sister?" "He called the Princess 'Sister'?"

Simultaneously, commotion broke out among the four people excluding us two.

...Could that guy already be Romanized? I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

But the Sultan's brother merely closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then reopened them and continued as if nothing had happened.

"Please give me three reasons why I shouldn't cross this bridge with my soldiers, Princess."

Truly the composure and audacity befitting a Sultan of a nation.

I also tried to sound as relaxed as possible as I answered.

"First, because the Roman army is still intact. The Bey of Danishmend wasn't as impressive as you expected."

I looked toward the forest at the end of the bridge as if it held some significance. On cue, the special detachment of about a dozen men I had stationed there moved quickly between the branches, creating busy sounds.

It sounded quite convincing even to my ears. With a lighter heart, I turned my gaze back to the Sultan.

"Second, because the Bey of Danishmend is still camped in front of the empty Iconium. Gümüshtigin, who is more practical and quicker to assess situations than anyone, has over twenty thousand soldiers with him."

This time I spoke with sincerity, looking directly into the Sultan's eyes. Given the imperfect nature of their alliance, this statement wasn't even a bluff to begin with.

The Sultan stared at me without answering. But I didn't miss the slight twitch of his eyebrow. Sensing an opportunity, I continued.

"And third... there isn't one."

"...What?"

"I said there isn't more. You arbitrarily demanded three reasons."

This was actually sincere. There really wasn't a third reason.

But that didn't mean I could stop acting. I glanced toward the end of the river as if I had prepared a trap, and fiddled with the railing as if suggesting the bridge had been sabotaged.

After all, what mattered was convincing the Sultan that crossing this bridge would be disadvantageous.

Like the phantom crossbowmen our detachment had created in the forest, the rest could be left to his imagination.

"Hmm..."

Fortunately, as I intended, the Sultan stared at me with a contemplative expression.

The generals standing beside him were also whispering advice into his ears. After pondering for a while, the Sultan nodded as if having made a decision and said to me:

"It seems the Princess has no intention of facing us in a fair fight this time either."

The start was good. The Sultan clearly seemed to be shadow-boxing with an imaginary Roman army.

I shrugged and retorted:

"I've always been fair. I just make good use of the given environment."

"Given environment... how novel to hear such words from the mouth of the Roman Empire's Princess."

The Sultan paused briefly. I instinctively felt that his next words would be his conclusion.

In the tense moment, I fixed my gaze on the Sultan's lips, and finally he spoke.

"Fifty men."

...? The words made no sense.

"What do you mean, fifty men?"

"Exactly what I said. I'm sending a pursuit team of fifty cavalry from now."

The Sultan answered with a slight smile.

So... he's sending fifty men to capture me?

"...This is bad. Should we move to the second plan immediately?"

Though I was still dazed, Haakon quickly assessed the situation.

"Princess, we should move right now."

Nikephoros, too, with a much more serious voice, stepped slightly in front of me to shield me.

But I couldn't back down now. I pushed Nikephoros aside and stepped forward.

"So you're saying you don't mind if fifty men die?"

"Yes. You've surely made preparations, Princess, but if there's even the slightest chance of capturing you, investing fifty light cavalry is worth it."

The Sultan's still-calm voice carried a certain determination. It was as if my taunting had provoked some kind of stubbornness in him.

We're doomed. Those three syllables rapidly filled my mind.

"Should we go with the second plan? Shall I destroy the bridge?"

The second plan was to collapse the bridge to buy time and escape in the confusion.

But with the Sultan having seen through our bluff and likely to pursue us immediately, we would ultimately have to face them in a direct confrontation.

"Wait a moment."

That wouldn't be good for us. It would be difficult to form a wagon fortress in the field, and the power difference between our forces and the Sultan's was already more than double.

Yet even as I deliberated, one of the generals who had received the Sultan's orders was already returning to the main force.

There must be another way... I gritted my teeth and struggled to find an answer.

"Sultan!"

Just then, an urgent cry came from the enemy side.

Though in a Turkish accent, I could understand "Sultan." Looking in that direction, I saw a messenger running onto the bridge without even the Sultan's permission.

Then he knelt and began reporting something.

"...Ne?"

The Sultan's voice clearly revealed his surprise.

The Sultan's gaze moved from the messenger to me, and then to the forest behind me.

Then his eyes, which began to tremble slightly...

"Damn it."

Landed on the ground as a curse.

I don't know if he meant for me to hear, but he cursed in Greek. As I stared at him blankly, the Sultan spoke again.

"Let's agree that both sides withdraw for today."

"...Huh?"

He suddenly became submissive.

Of course, using the phrase "both sides" in this situation implied that they wouldn't pursue us either.

"Perhaps Danishmend has made a move."

Nikephoros seemed to have quickly caught on to that aspect as he whispered.

Meanwhile, Haakon was just making an "Eh?" sound, looking puzzled.

"Looks like something major has happened?"

After shrugging at Nikephoros, I asked with feigned composure.

The Sultan just stamped his foot irritably, avoiding my gaze.

"Tell me what's happening. Then, I promise we won't pursue you either."

He clearly seemed to have some urgent matter. If that's how he wanted to play it, I would try to extract as much information as possible.

The Sultan grumbled irritably for a while before finally nodding.

"Something has come up that requires my immediate return."

His gaze turned again to the forest behind me. Then, as if time were running out, he continued in a sincere tone.

"There's a problem in Cilicia."