CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
This was the only room in the castle I’d been allowed to decorate, yet it remained bare save for Nora’s insistent intervention.
Although I had lived here my entire life, it had never felt like home—not the way I would imagine it.
As I contemplated what I might lose, I realized there wasn’t much: a kingdom that never truly accepted me, family that only met the definition by name, and a future I had absolutely no say in.
What was I fighting for? What was there of value to keep?
I studied my circlet, the braided band of silver that conveyed my worth. Cradled in a jewelry casket finer than anything in the room, resting on the kingdom’s softest pillow.
A metallic burden I would carry no longer.
With a heavy sigh, I kneeled before my window, running my fingers through Miss Mystis’ fur as she studied me.
“All right,” I whispered. “Have it your way.”
Lunamor was about to have another disappearance added to the Sentinel’s log.
I prepared quickly. I’d never been on a proper journey beyond the wall, and I did not know how long it would take to get to a village once I crossed the Threshold, but Sentinel training had covered the fundamentals of survival that I hoped would keep me alive along the way.
I vaulted through a window from the kitchens, comforted by the weight of my now-full leather bag.
I’d made quick work of obtaining rations, as many of the ingredients used for the feast hadn’t yet been locked away.
I’d helped myself to bread, cheese, salted meat, dried fruit, a leather flask filled with wine, and a small jar of honey that Petunia would notice was absent.
I smirked with a deep inhale of the cool night air, all but hearing the lengthy reprimand her staff—no doubt suffering from the feast’s excess—would have waiting for them in the morning.
Dropping low into the shadows, I avoided the notice of chorusing Lunamorians still prancing about drunkenly to their own bastardized renditions of the Feast of Comets’ ballads.
The night was no longer young, and the crowds had mostly dissipated as villagers stumbled home, many tripping over themselves while trying to observe the comets and walk simultaneously.
As a couple crashed into each other and landed in a comical heap, their uncontrollable laughter was nearly contagious.
But I couldn’t bring myself to partake of their joy.
The crushing weight of Rowland’s terror and subsequent hopelessness had been lifted from my spirit, only to be replaced with the unknown of the Threshold.
I could not anticipate what awaited me on the other side, but each time I doubted my decision, Vicar’s words steeled me.
Cross if necessary.
Of one thing I was absolutely certain: this was, without the slightest inkling of a doubt, necessary.
So I straightened against the courtyard’s balcony to do one last check of my person.
My cloak was secured with my mother’s cloak pin, and the weighted hood sat comfortably atop my head.
Even so, I had pinned my braid into a bun—nothing would tip off a villager or Sentinel more quickly than a glimpse of white-blonde hair.
To further camouflage my identity, I remained dressed in my Hollow clothes.
The only item I had forgone was the corset, replacing it with a much more breathable Sentinel’s waist belt that had small pouches and a sheath for my dagger.
I tugged on my leather bag, ensuring it remained securely attached to the belt, and finally knelt down to double-check the laces on the outside of my bucket boots, as I had affectionately named them.
There was a soft purr followed by a nudge to my backside. Miss Mystis rounded to my front with a gentle meow.
“Are you coming with me, then?”
Her tail swished from side to side, sweeping the balcony. I moved to scratch the underside of her chin when, suddenly, voices in the courtyard drowned out the festivities.
“I’m so sorry, Captain.”
“If only that meant anything to me.” Anise’s tone was frigid, but I detected an edge of worry. “You were supposed to be guarding her chambers, not sleeping beside them.”
My heart stilled. Not only had Anise known about the Sentinel stationed outside my door, but he was answering to her.
I ignored the ire tightening my core as I pressed against the stone wall on the outer edge of the balcony.
I knew the shadows would conceal me for the time being, but there was no easy way out of the courtyard without dropping outside the castle grounds, into the village.
I’d made the drop before, but if they were already searching for me, a potential injury from landing incorrectly posed an even greater risk.
“WHERE — IS — SHE?”
Rowland’s scream echoed throughout the courtyard, the unmistakable rage that deepened each word causing my blood to frenzy.
“We’re searching for her, Your Highness. She can’t have gone far.”
Anise. She was going to help him find me. Reeling, I rested my forehead against the cool stone.
I had nothing.
I had no one.
“I want her found immediately,” Rowland barked. “The moment she is located, we leave for Hollowmire. You—get the horses ready!”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Anise said. “King Lunamor—”
“Silence.” My father’s voice was absent of rage or worry, but I knew better.
I’d seen the crazed look in his eye earlier that evening; as far as he was concerned, my marriage to Rowland was inevitable, even if he had to throw me into a barred carriage himself.
“Check the east wall. She’s been lurking there these past few days. That could be where she’s gone.”
“She wasn’t stationed—”
“I know everything about my daughter, Captain. You would do well to remember that.”
There was no time to consider the implication of my father’s words.
Instead of thinking, I grabbed the lip of the balcony’s barrier, heaving myself over and dangling there, many feet above the ground.
With two quick, shallow inhales to ready myself, I dropped into the bushes below, relaxed my body on impact, and rolled backwards into the grass.
Without waiting to see if they’d heard me, I scrambled to my feet and began sprinting.
Even as the wind whipped through my cloak, promising a chill I was not prepared for, and every creaking branch sent my mind spiraling, I knew there was no alternative.
To the west, lay Hollowmire. To the south, the Cleovian Sea.
Northeast of Lunamor was uninhabitable with its glacial temperatures and also housed the only recommended passage to Mount Sor, which held no promise of being any safer than Lunamor, even if I were equipped to make the journey.
Grenythwood was my last hope, and as I fled from the only kingdom I had ever called home, I could only pray that the stars were on my side.
When I finally glimpsed the eastern wall, its parapet barely visible above the trees, my legs tried to give out.
My lower body was united in its dissent, muscles screaming as waves of exhaustion and pain flowed through my legs relentlessly.
But I couldn’t stop, not for a significant period of time.
I knew there were Sentinels on foot heading for my location, but it was those who had likely been dispatched on horseback that kept the fearful energy coursing.
Fortunately, the Sentinel’s stables were on the western side of Lunamor, extending from the depot, and the path beyond the wall did not provide a straight line to the east; I still had a chance to arrive before they did, even if it was miniscule.
The easternmost portion of the kingdom was home to expansive plum orchards.
I jogged through the trees, occasionally casting a panicked glance back whenever I mistook the snap of a twig or rustling leaves for an approaching Sentinel.
I was so close, but as birdsong filled the air and the sky’s darkness melted into a dusky blue, I knew that time was running out.
The sun would burst atop the trees soon enough, dispelling the cloak of darkness and making evasion that much more difficult.
Each time I wanted to stop, my lungs and throat burning from never-ending exertion, the bright memory of pain licked the skin of my back.
This was, without a doubt, the most treasonous act I had ever committed—if I were caught, there was no way I would find myself in Rowland’s carriage in one piece, not if Father had anything to say about it.
The thought propelled me forward, fingertips grazing the bark of the plum trees I passed to steady myself.
I didn’t know how much more I was physically capable of, but as I finally reached the wall, there was only one choice: up and over.
I assessed the trees nearest me, choosing one whose branches arched favorably towards the wall.
Without giving myself time to consider the ache that permeated each and every part of my body, I hoisted myself onto the lowest branch and began climbing.
I muted my grunts and exhausted gasps to the best of my ability, keeping my attention strained for the slightest hint of another soul.
It wasn’t until I leapt from the plum tree and onto the battlement that a distant whinny sharpened my senses.
I crouched behind the parapet, heartbeat pounding in unison with the galloping horses approaching.
There was no time.
I seized the rope nearest me, looping it through the iron bracket embedded in the parapet.
With one preparatory breath, I swung my legs to the outside of the wall, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the distance below.
I lowered myself before panic could take hold, pressing my feet against the stone for balance as I descended hastily.
The rope chafed my palms, and my muscles convulsed under the effort, but neither could distract me from the voices echoing in the distance.