After the attack, they had kept moving east, as fast as they could. "Are we going somewhere safe?" Runi asked while expertly wrapping the bullet wound Omar had taken for her. She still couldn't bring herself to call him Your Excellency. "Yes. The safest place there is for them," the Nubian murmured. "If we don't stop, we'll reach Los Ganas by dawn. A ship will be waiting to take us to Makkar Island." Runi took a deep breath. "And what happens after that?" she asked. "There, they'll be safe. But if any of them want to start over elsewhere, we'll relocate them," Omar explained. "We have secure places in Franconia, Portia, Albaryn, and Grazier. We help them learn the language, the culture... build a new life." She looked at him curiously. "Can you really do that?" "Come on, I'm an Velharaian prince—heir of ancient Nubia. There's nothing I can't do," he replied with a smirk, then winced as she pulled the bandage tight. "Well, Mr. Prince…" she said, narrowing her eyes, "wa
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