The Kidnapped Princess Refuses to Go Home
The legendary mercenary king had retired.
Hiding his dazzling past, he lived peacefully in a mountain stronghold—part-time bandit, part-time cabbage farmer. Then one day, he picked up an abandoned carriage. Inside was an imperial princess.
“A-are you… assassins sent by the empress?”
“Assassins? Hardly. I’m just a farmer. …..”
“But this killing intent… Who exactly are you?”
The Kidnapped Princess Refuses to Go Home
Rodin scratched the back of his head with a callused hand. The morning sun filtered through the jagged mountain peaks, casting long shadows across the wooden palisade that surrounded his modest stronghold. A few of his men—former bandits who had long since traded their swords for hoes—were already out in the fields, tending to the cabbages that had become the backbone of their strange little community.
He had come to these remote mountains five years ago, determined to live an ordinary life. No more mercenary contracts. No more blood-soaked battlefields. Just quiet days, simple food, and the occasional raid on passing merchant caravans to keep things interesting. The life of a mountain bandit lord suited him surprisingly well. At least until today.
The carriage he had “acquired” yesterday sat crookedly in the courtyard, its ornate imperial crest still gleaming despite the dust of travel. Rodin had assumed it was just another fat merchant’s wagon. He hadn’t expected to find a trembling young woman inside, dressed in silks too fine for this part of the world.
And he certainly hadn’t expected her to be the third imperial princess.
“Look, Your Highness,” he said, trying to sound as harmless as possible. It wasn’t easy. Even when he smiled, his face—scarred from a hundred battles and framed by a wild black beard—looked like it belonged to a demon king. “We’re not here to hurt you. The boys and I just… borrowed the carriage. The horses looked tired.”
The princess—Elara, if the rumors were true—stared at him with wide violet eyes. She was beautiful in that fragile, porcelain way that only imperial nobility could manage. But there was steel in her gaze too. She hadn’t screamed or cried. Instead, she had calmly assessed her situation and come to the only logical conclusion: these men were sent to kill her.
“If you’re not assassins,” she said slowly, “then why do you carry the scent of death on you? That aura… it’s thicker than any knight I’ve ever met.”
Rodin winced internally. Damn it. I knew I should’ve taken a bath before checking the carriage.
His men had gathered at a respectful distance, watching the exchange with poorly concealed amusement. Big Tom, the former highwayman who now managed the vegetable stores, was openly grinning. Little Pete, who handled the accounts with surprising skill for someone missing three fingers, looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“Boss,” Tom called out, “maybe offer the lady some tea? We’ve got that fancy blend we… liberated from the last caravan.”
“Shut it,” Rodin growled without looking back. His voice came out deeper than intended. The princess flinched.
This is not how I wanted to spend my retirement.
He had spent years building a reputation as the King of Mercenaries, a man who could topple kingdoms with a single command. Then, at the height of his power, he had walked away. Faked his death. Disappeared into the mountains with a handful of loyal followers who were tired of endless war. They had built this place from nothing. A sanctuary. A home.
And now an imperial princess had dropped into their laps like a cursed treasure.
“Listen,” he tried again, softening his tone as much as his gravelly voice would allow. “The empire’s a mess right now. The empress is consolidating power, the holy see is getting greedy, and the magic tower is playing its usual games. You being here… it’s probably not safe for you to go back. Not yet.”
Elara’s eyes narrowed. “So you know who I am.”
“Hard not to. The crest on the carriage is pretty distinctive. Plus, you’ve got that whole ‘I was raised in a palace’ thing going on.”
She studied him for a long moment. The fear in her eyes slowly gave way to something else—calculation. “If you’re not going to kill me, what do you intend to do with me?”
Rodin shrugged. “Feed you. Give you a room. Maybe teach you how to grow cabbages. Whatever you want, really. Just… don’t go home. It’s a bad idea right now.”
The princess blinked. Once. Twice. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she laughed. It was a bright, clear sound that seemed completely out of place in a bandit stronghold.
“You’re serious,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “The man who radiates enough killing intent to scare off a dragon wants me to stay here and… farm?”
“It’s peaceful,” Rodin muttered defensively. “The cabbages don’t talk back. Usually.”
From the sidelines, Tom finally lost his battle with laughter. “Boss, I think she likes you!”
“I said shut it!”
Elara looked around at the ragtag group of former mercenaries and bandits. At the sturdy wooden buildings, the neatly tended fields, the surprisingly clean courtyard. Then she looked back at Rodin—towering, terrifying, and clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation.
“Very well,” she said at last. “I accept your hospitality, Sir Farmer. On one condition.”
Rodin raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
She smiled sweetly. A smile that somehow managed to be both innocent and terrifying.
“You have to tell me who you really are. Because I refuse to believe the man standing before me is merely a simple farmer.”
Rodin felt a headache coming on. This was going to complicate his peaceful retirement. He could already tell.
The kidnapped princess won’t go home.
Great. Just great.
Far to the south, in the glittering halls of the imperial capital, a different conversation was taking place.
The empress sat upon her throne, fingers drumming against the armrest. Her beautiful face was a mask of cold calculation. “The princess’s carriage has disappeared. Find her. Alive, if possible. Dead works too.”
The shadow kneeling before her bowed lower. “As you command, Your Majesty.”
In the distant Magic Tower, an old mage looked up from his crystal ball and chuckled. “Oh my. This is going to be interesting.”
And in the Holy See, a cardinal smiled as he received the report. “The princess is missing? How unfortunate. We should send aid immediately. For the good of the empire, of course.”
Back in the mountains, Rodin stared at the princess who had just declared she wasn’t going anywhere.
He had a feeling his days of peaceful cabbage farming were about to come to a violent end.
Why couldn’t I have picked up a normal carriage?