8. Ayna
Ayna
The full truth, it turns out, has to wait until the carriage rattles us into the shelter of a nearby forest. Kaira won’t turn her focus from the window, scanning the scattered houses and ramshackle stables beyond Meer’s city walls for potential danger, while Pouly steers the carriage along the tight paths. I flinch every time we slow down, at every turn we take, every winding curve of the path, my heart nearly stopping at the thought that someone might have discovered us.
The carriage slows at the edge of the forest, navigating a route off the main road and into the denser greenery where we can slow down and take a breath.
“The towers above the tunnel are unmanned for that brief period of time when the guards change,” Pouly reassures me when the carriage stops and he hops into the cabin, making me look away from the opening door. “If they’d spotted us, they’d already be on our asses by now.”
He cuts a nervous glance at Lady Andraya, who grins in return. “Don’t mind me and my noble ears. We have enough foul-mouthed asses in our own ranks.”
The smirk on Pouly’s face allows me a glimpse of the man he would be under circumstances less dire and dangerous than this rescue mission he seems to have taken upon himself. “Well, I’ll assume those don’t look half as good in a uniform as mine.”
A hysterical sound bubbles up my throat, and both Pouly and Andraya give me their full attention.
“Ever since the demise of the Milevishja bloodline, there have been rumors that one of them survived. Rumors whispered only behind closed doors for fear a Jelnedyn could hear them and go after the supposed heir.” Lady Andraya’s gaze meets mine as she pauses, waiting for a reaction or for a verdict, I can’t tell.
In my chest, my heart races at the mere thought of someone knowing about my father—potentially about me—and never saying a damn word.
“ Keep your calm, Ayna,” Kaira warns, her mental tone as weak as her posture as she rests her head against the back of her seat.
I force patience into my veins until Pouly places a gentle hand on my forearm, his dirt-streaked fingers familiar after him carrying me through the tunnels beneath the palace.
“A group of loyalists has been biding their time until the day a sign of the true heir emerged,” Pouly continues, and a shudder rakes through me at the meaning of his words.
“A sign?” Just to clarify.
Andraya nods. “A sign that it is time to step out of the shadows and fight for the rightful king or queen.”
“Queen,” Kaira throws in as she gives me a pained smile. With everything else going on, it’s easy to lose track of the countless cuts and bruises marring her person. How she can stay so calm and collected with Pouly’s and Andraya’s revelations is beyond me.
“While you were sleeping in silk sheets, Pouly and I had time to plot an escape,” my sister supplies, grimacing at me. “But that’s beside the point.”
“You’re safe with us, Queen Wolayna,” Pouly reassures me, and my heart makes a heavy thud at the claim they put to my name.
Queen. Not of Crows but of Tavras.
Stars dance in my vision, and before I can demand to know how they pulled off preparing the rescue mission, I black out.
Stars illuminate the night as I wake to the absolute stillness of the carriage. I can’t tell how long I’ve been out, only that it must have been several hours. Across from me, Kaira’s head rests in Andraya’s lap like a child, and the lady’s hand strokes back the woman’s hair in a soothing motion that has nothing to do with the fierce noble whom I’d met at court.
“She’s been through a lot,” Andraya whispers when she notices I’m awake. “Erina and that Crow bastard were ready to break her. Had I not pulled her out of her cell, today might have been the day she would finally fall apart.”
“Why did you free her?” It should be a simple question, but the way the lady’s forehead creases tells me it isn’t.
“Anyone whose presence in Erina’s dungeon gives him such leverage over my queen needs to be saved.” Her hand stills on Kaira’s forehead, gaze drifting to the darkness outside the window. “When Pouly and I managed to sneak down to the dungeon this morning, she told us everything about how the two of you ended up in captivity.”
“She knew? About the rebellion?” My head hurts from more than just the aftereffects of the drug.
“Not before we met. But I’m convinced she’s all in, now that she knows.”
“Where are we?” Bracing one hand on the wall of the carriage, I sit straight, scanning the darkness outside. My stomach is upset just like it was after my first escape from Erina’s palace. Only this time, I don’t vomit right away. The drug is slowly leaving my system.
Beside me, Pouly is watching the outlines of the trees, his human eyes probably struggling to make out individual branches in the semi-darkness. My own eyes, however, see colors and shapes in the forest that make even this part of Eherea appear magical. Twigs weave into each other, reaching through moonlight like fingers through a cobweb. We must have stopped only recently, for the landscape looks nothing like the outskirts of Meer that were still visible when we entered the forest.
“North. You look better,” Lady Andraya notes, carefully reaching under the bench with her free hand to extract a bundle of gray cloth. “Here, eat some of this.”
When I don’t react, Pouly grabs it and unfolds the cloth, revealing a loaf of rye bread. “It’s as fresh as our plan allows.”
The glance he gives me makes me tilt my head to examine the round loaf. “You still need to tell me all about that plan.” I take the chunk Pouly tears off and nibble for a moment before I need to stop and wait for my stomach to settle.
“I was about to when you passed out.” Pouly’s grin is buoyant, but his posture is tense, as if he’s expecting an ambush any moment.
“I’m awake now.” I force down another bite of bread. If I want to get back to strength, I need food. And water.
As if reading my mind, Lady Andraya pulls a canteen from the same spot she’d been hiding the bread and hands it to me. “We’ve had people stock up the carriage with water and dried provisions since Erina sent out that pamphlet announcing he’d marry the Milevishja princess.” She points under the bench where two boxes are sitting half-hidden behind her legs. “Just in case we’d get a chance to break you out sooner.”
“Just in case,” I murmur, mind grappling for things to make sense.
The water definitely helps, cooling my throat and my head as the weakness gradually fades .
“The rebels are always ready to aid a Milevishja royal, my princess,” Pouly explains, but all it does is raise more questions.
“Rebels?” A glance at Lady Andraya in her pants and the roguish grin on her face informs me they mean it.
“I’ve been part of the rebels since long before you can remember, Wolayna.” The lady gestures at me with more warmth in her eyes than her expression should allow. “When your mother packed up her bags and left Meer with you after your father’s death, I should have known. I should have known that a Milevishja executed meant he posed a danger to the Jelnedyn throne.” Her throat bobs and her brow creases as she studies me in the half-light the moon and stars provide. I could swear the sun is nipping at the darkness, for from the corner of my eye, I can make out an orange hue that doesn’t belong in the night.
“He was murdered.” It is Pouly whose voice shakes with anger.
“He was executed for treason,” I correct, but the words don’t feel right anymore. I know the truth now, that my father had sent an assassin to kill Erina and his family. He wanted to claim his birthright and got caught.
Lady Andraya and Pouly share a glance that makes my stomach churn.
“I learned only recently why he was executed ,” Pouly admits, “or I’d have called for aid the moment you set foot over the threshold of the palace.”
I’m not sure what touches me more—that he has committed himself to a cause that aids my bloodline or that he’s outraged on my behalf. If there was any shred of doubt they mean me no harm, it’s wiped out now.
“How long have you been in Erina’s service?” It’s the first question I can think of because I can’t remember the man from my first captivity in Meer.
Pouly folds the cloth over the bread and sets it down between us on the black leather of the bench. “I used to be stationed in the south”—his eyes meet Lady Andraya’s once more in an unreadable gaze, and the woman shakes her head—“but I asked to be transferred to the palace.” He clears his throat. “And before you ask how I gained the king’s trust so fast that he allowed me to escort his prisoner bride through the palace, our group has ways of advancing people up the ranks.”
Drawn by the lack of decoration on his shoulders, my eyes wander to his uniform. “You aren’t high up in the chain of command,” I assess what I remember from my childhood spent between Tavrasian nobility and military, and from what I observed during my captivity.
“That’s on purpose. I needed to remain inconspicuous. A reliable puppet to execute the king’s orders.” His features twist as if remembering what those commands entailed. “Since I hold no responsibility in the chain of command, it will be a day or two until they notice I’m gone. That’s why we waited until yesterday to get you out.”
When I open my mouth to ask what he means, he continues, “It had to be on my day off so I wouldn’t be missed right away. This ensures us a head start.”
“Your group must have a lot of influence in order to place people in the right spot to rescue someone so fast,” I note, eyes still on Pouly’s uniform, trying to process the reach of the rebellion—and that there is a rebellion at all.
Lady Andraya shrugs. “Enough. We have people all over Tavras, from the southern ports to the borders of Askarea. For generations, we’ve been building a small, reliable network. Especially in trade where lots of information travel alongside goods.”
“It helps that our cause is supported by plenty of wealth and Erina’s court works on coin and power.” Pouly gives me a meaningful look.
“But why not just kill the Jelnedyn king then?” Kaira has a point there.
Lady Andraya merely shakes her head at her. “That would have been rash. Assassinating the king without a Milevishja heir to take over the throne would have alerted the Jelnedyn line to our existence. If an assassin got captured and spoke under torture, there is no guarantee they’d keep our secret. We’d be discovered and eliminated one by one while the next Jelnedyn sat on the throne. No, thank you.” Emphatically shaking her head once more, she pins me with a gaze full of hope and pride. “For so long, we’ve been waiting for word of a real Milevishja heir to reach us. And here we are.” She gestures at me like at a treasure, eyes lighting up with reverence. “The last Milevishja princess. Queen of Tavras.”
“And a fugitive,” Kaira adds, sitting up with a wince.
My heart swells at the sight of her grin. “You could have warned me someone was coming for me,” I scold her lightly, forgetting the twisting and turning knot that is my stomach, if only for a moment .
“Now where would be the fun in that?” Her voice is a croak, her hand clutching her side where fresh blood stains her garments. But the smile is genuine, and it means everything.
“Let me take a look at that.” Lady Andraya notices the wet spot the same moment I do and motions for Kaira to lift her shirt, which she does to expose a sickening array of dark blotches on her stomach and ribs where she must have been beaten, and in the midst of them, a stab wound.
“It’s nothing,” she murmurs, but the way she’s gritting her teeth only reinforces the image of how she’s been brutalized. Pouly reaches under his bench, pulling out a box with medical supplies, and pours something on a piece of cloth.
“This will make sure it doesn’t get infected,” he says as he presses the cloth to her wound without warning.
I gasp alongside Kaira as a flash of her thoughts flares in my mind. “ Fucking Eroth ’ s Veil, that hurts.”
Lady Andraya clasps her hand as she’s fighting tears.
“Only for a little while, but it will save your life.” Pouly seems to know what he’s talking about for he exposes his forearm to show us a jagged ten-inch scar that looks nothing like it’s been stitched and properly bandaged at any time. “Got that in a fight with a Tavrasian soldier years back when they tried to ferret out our rebel group. They got too close to the truth, so we chose to confront them.”
I hold my breath. “If Erina knows about the rebels, tying me to him by force makes even more sense. This way, he doesn’t need to worry about anyone dethroning him. ”
Lady Andraya nods. “The rebels would have a Milevishja queen the way we’ve always hoped for, and he wouldn’t lose his power in the process.”
Pouly gives her that same unreadable glance, but this time, she nods. “It’s the other reason why we waited to get you out of the palace.”
“We needed to be certain you weren’t there out of your free will,” Lady Andraya takes over. “It’s why I tried to talk to you as much as Erina would allow during the banquets.”
I remember each time the lady had assessed me in the throne room. Each look and the subtext I thought I’d imagined. But she had been trying to gauge if I was truly willing to marry Erina.
What had I said? I would have loved to see the ocean again before my wedding day.
And Lady Andraya had understood.
“And once we knew, we made haste,” Pouly concluded the story. “The rest is logistic details that don’t need to concern you anymore. We won’t return to Meer before we can put together an army that will win you back your throne.”
A heavy silence falls over the carriage, Kaira clutching the cloth to her wound with a less pained and more concerned expression on her face, Andraya measuring me with those dark eyes, and Pouly sitting back on the bench, shoulders relaxed as if he’s just shed a weight.
“Thank you.” It’s all I can bring myself to say, and it doesn’t even remotely begin to express my gratitude and the debt I owe them for saving my life—and my sanity.
“The horses have rested enough.” Pouly gently pats me on the forearm before opening the door and sliding out into the night to resume his spot on the driver’s bench. “Time to leave this place behind us.”