“Huff… huff… wait, slow down.”

Elishia was chasing her breath while practically being dragged by Mark, his grip locked tightly around her right hand. They wove through narrow alleys like fugitives, shadows dancing across weathered brick walls.

“Sorry, Princess, can’t afford to. Or we’ll miss our ship,” Mark replied in a tight voice, not once loosening his hold.

“Ship? What ship?” she asked, puzzled, still reeling from the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago.

“A ship, Princess. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one in your life?” His tone attempted lightness, but his relentless pace betrayed his urgency.

“I… huff… know what a ship is, but—”

Before she could finish, Mark suddenly stopped and spun around to face her. His hands gripped her shoulders firmly, startling her enough that her body stiffened.

“W-what?” she stammered.

“Strip.”

Elishia’s wide eyes blinked. Was she hearing him right? Strip?

Seeing her confusion, Mark exhaled sharply and corrected, “Change clothes, is what I meant, Princess.”

“Oh…”

She still didn’t understand why she needed to change clothes. From the moment he appeared at her bedroom door until now, all Mark had done was drag her through alleys without explanation.

“The—the doctor? Where’s the doctor?” she suddenly asked, remembering the other important person in her chaos-clouded mind.

“Don’t worry. He’s fine. He’s with someone I know.”

“And the clinic?”

Mark didn’t answer. His silence was louder than any words.

“…Mark?”

—Swoooosh—

The salty sea breeze hit her face as she finally realized where they were. A harbor. More precisely, they were tucked between towering warehouses, with dock workers shouting in the distance and the faint creak of ships rocking in the tide. People queued at the pier to board a boat.

“What… why are we here?” Elishia asked, her voice unsteady.

Mark’s gaze lingered on her face, serious and unwavering. Then he forced a grin. “Can’t you just change clothes first? What’s with all these questions?”

He released her and dug into the duffel bag, pulling out folded clothing. “Here. Change into this.”

He shoved a dress into her hands—a simple but elegant white cotton dress, ankle-length, with short puffed sleeves and a ribbon sash at the waist. It was plain, almost modest, but soft against her fingers.

Still confused, Elishia looked down at it, ready to ask why, when her eyes darted up—only to see Mark stripping his upper body bare.

A sharp hiccup escaped her throat as she whirled around, clutching the dress to her chest. “W-why are you stripping?! You idiot! You could’ve told me you were already changing! But—why are you changing too? No—why are we even changing in the first place?!”

“You must’ve liked what you saw, hmm, Princess?” His cheeky voice came from behind.

“No! W-what are you—!” Her words were a flustered mess, her face burning red.

Then she felt it.

A presence pressed against her back. A large hand landed against the warehouse wall with a heavy thud, caging her in.

Elishia froze, burying her face deeper against the white dress in her hands.

“Or…” Mark’s tone dropped lower, huskier, his breath grazing the tips of her ear, “…do you want me to help you change instead?”

Her heart thundered so loudly it hurt.

“N-no! I can do it myself. Please… step away and turn around,” she said in a muffled rush, her ears crimson.

Mark chuckled, a sound warm and genuine. But the smile on his face dimmed as his eyes softened.

“Okay~”

He stepped back, his presence fading as his footsteps echoed a few paces away.

Elishia peeked over her shoulder. His back faced her now. He was already dressed in a fitted suit jacket that hugged his frame, highlighting his broad shoulders and tapered waist. For a brief moment, she found herself staring. This was the same Mark who annoyed her, teased her, dragged her around—and yet, now he looked like someone else entirely.

As though sensing her stare, he turned slightly. “You done?”

Elishia jolted and immediately spun away. “N-not yet!”

She retreated further into the shade of the warehouse. Fortunately, the sun was blocked completely, granting her a semblance of privacy. After a minute of rustling, she finally emerged.

“That took long enough, what, were you wrestling with—” Mark began his usual sarcasm, but his words stuck in his throat.

The sight made his chest tighten.

The dress fit her perfectly, even though it was meant to be simple. Against her pale skin, the white fabric glowed faintly in the dim light, and with the ribbon tied neatly at her waist, she looked…

Mark swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly.

“I-is it okay? I think it’s a bit smaller than I thought… Where did you even get this?” Elishia asked, fiddling with the sash.

“Ye-yes. You look—” he cleared his throat and forced the words out, “—very fine.”

He hurriedly dug into the duffel bag again and pulled out something else. “Here, wear these.”

He handed her a pair of simple white shoes.

“Where did you even get all of this?”

“Just put them on. Hurry.”

The shoes fit as though they’d been made for her. Elishia’s mind whirled, her earlier panic dimming into suspicion. Now that she’d calmed slightly, she began forming conjectures. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to voice them.

“Where are we really going?” she asked at last.

“You’ll find out soon.”

He grasped her hand again, firmer this time, and led her toward the dock.

The closer they got, the clearer the murmurs from the line of passengers became.

“Yes… bound for City Center Harbor. The Katalina is waiting…”

“…luxury cruise ship… five days… Trillen…”

At that word—Trillen—Elishia’s heart skipped violently.

Surely not?

She turned sharply to look at Mark, searching his face for confirmation. But fear kept her from asking aloud. What if it wasn’t true? What if it was only her desperate wishful thinking?

Before doubt could sink in further, Mark tightened his grip on her hand. He faced her with that same tight-lipped expression—but his eyes softened.

“Everything will be okay.”