Chapter 25 Jess
Danym led us to his home on the eastern end of the city.
Despite his position in the King’s Council, his father was a humble man, preferring to let his performance as High Sheriff impress rather than the size of his manor.
Danym guided us around to the back of the house, revealing a barn at the far end of a large grassy field.
Once inside, we removed our saddles and brushed the horses out.
The ride from the forest had been uneventful, but we were exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
I helped feed and water the horses before Danym and I headed to the house.
“My father won’t be back until late. There’s something going on that he won’t talk about, but it’s big enough to make him work long hours, sometimes overnight. We can get a good night’s rest and leave before sunrise,” he said.
My mind still reeled from our escape in the woods.
I reached over and took Danym’s hand as we walked.
The tangle of our fingers was a comfort.
When we entered the house, I was surprised to find the outside was matched by an equally modest interior.
We passed through a sizeable sitting room with comfortable chairs.
On the wall above the hearth was the head of a deer crowned by a giant rack of antlers.
The deer’s eyes stared accusingly, and I looked away to escape its scrutiny.
We entered a bedroom, and Danym bowed. “The royal suite, Your Majesty.”
I chuckled, letting the beautiful boy’s antics calm my nerves. “None of that. Remember, we’re trying to not be recognized. We have to forget titles, maybe even come up with different names until we’re safe somewhere.”
“You’re probably right, but you will always be my princess.” He gave me a peck on the cheek before backing out of the room and closing the door.
I sat on the neatly made bed and scanned the room.
I couldn’t stop replaying everything in my mind: the smugness in Mother’s eyes as her peacocks paraded through the Throne Room, the smell of the Duke’s breath as he whispered against my ear, the feeling of his oily hand on my skin, insinuating his intentions should we ever be alone.
I shivered despite the warmth of the room.
Then my mind turned to the robed men in the woods and the frantic flight that led me into Danym’s arms.
Who were those men, and what were they doing in the woods?
Had they been waiting for me?
I hadn’t even known I would be out there. How could they?
It might have been chance. Perhaps those men were up to their own sour deeds and spotted me by chance, recognizing me as a princess whose ransom would be worth a lifetime of petty crimes.
That might’ve been a logical explanation, but it didn’t feel right.
They wore those strange masks.
I understood the need to hide one’s identity better than most, but to pick something so hideous seemed insane. The thought made the men’s eyes flash before me—dull, lifeless eyes that stared at everything and nothing, like the deer mount in the sitting room.
Perhaps they were insane.
I suppressed another shiver.
Trying to calm myself, I focused on simpler things: getting ready for bed, brushing my hair, the simplicity and comfort of routine.
I pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, reveling in the fluffy warmth of its multi-colored quilt.
As I drifted off to sleep, the tenderness of Danym’s smile overtook my dreams.
Hours later, I woke to a gentle tapping at the door. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, finally surrendering the warmth of the comforter to answer the incessant knocks. Danym had one finger over his lips when I cracked the door and peered through.
“My father came home a couple of hours ago. He should be asleep, but we need to be quiet,” he whispered.
I nodded and closed the door. After changing into riding clothes, I made the bed and checked the room, erasing any sign I had slept there. The last thing we needed was for the Chief Constable of the country to spot something amiss and spoil our escape.
Once satisfied, I grabbed my bag and padded into the hallway where Danym waited. We hurried out of the house and raced across the field, the grass crunchy and wet with morning dew. When we reached the barn, Dittler danced but overcame his excitement at the sight of an apple in Danym’s hand.
“I know,” I told the horse, remembering how he’d tossed me to the ground and fled into the woods. “You were scared. I’m not mad. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”
Dittler calmed at my words and snorted. His eyes were wells of brown, deep and mournful, and it felt like he was trying to apologize. I gave him a kiss on his velveteen nose before moving on.
As we saddled the horses and strapped bags into place, Danym turned. “Are you sure you want to do this? To leave? You’re going to be the next Queen. Running away may make your father think twice about your place in the succession.”
It took a moment to gather my strength and meet his eyes.
“I can’t go back, Danym,” I said, my voice as small as I felt.
“I need to be free to make my own future, my own choices. Nobody outside our family sees the invisible chains attached to the Crown. When I was little, I wanted to be Queen more than anything, to rule over a glorious nation,
but I’ve seen what ruling does to my father—what it’s doing to my whole family. I can’t wear those chains. I just can’t.”
I tried not to think of my brothers.
I was sure they would be fine, even Justin—especially Justin. He was made to wear the crown. He would do better than I ever could.
Danym took me in his arms and held me close, kissing the top of my head. “You don’t have to go back. I’ll help you be free. I’ll keep you safe.”
We stood there for a long moment enjoying the simple peace and comfort of an embrace. Finally, he stepped back. “So, where would Your Majesty like to go?”
I smirked at his continued use of my title.
“Let’s think this through. We could follow the coast through Clude and Oliver, maybe to Cooper on the Hook. I love the tiny villages with their dirty beaches and brilliant sunsets, but Cooper is the only town of any real size west of the Spires.
I’d probably be recognized the moment we passed through.”
“We can’t give anyone a trail to follow. Let’s rule that out for now,” he said.
I nodded. “That leaves the King’s Road through the Spires toward Spoke, or east to Featherstone on the northern coast.”
“Please, not Featherstone. My father talks about pirate raids from Riz and how his teams struggle to keep the peace along the coast. The thought of having to fight our way to freedom is almost as scary as staying here,” he said.
“Agreed.” I stroked Dittler’s neck. “So that leaves the King’s Road. It’s pretty heavily traveled, but that might actually be good. There’ll be more people to blend in with, and it should be well patrolled.
We’ll be okay as long as we can get some distance between us and the capital before anyone realizes I’m gone.”
“The King’s Road winds through the Spires, and those are some cold mountains. Taller than any others in the land, too. We’ll need better gear and warmer clothing if we’re making that trip. Why don’t you keep Dittler company while I go back into the house for a few minutes?”
He turned to walk out of the barn.
“Danym,” I said, causing him to turn back as he stood halfway through the open door. “I just want to say thank you. You saved me from more than you’ll ever know.”
“No, Jess. You saved me, and you don’t even know it.” He smiled and closed the door behind him.
Dittler snorted, and I let out a sigh, resting my head against his strong back. “I know, Dit. He really is amazing.”
Barely a heartbeat passed before Danym burst back through the barn door, struggling to catch his breath. “We have to go. Now! There are two of those robed men poking around the front of the house. We can cut through the neighbor’s field and worry about the mountains when we get to them.”
He helped me mount Dittler, then walked to the back of the barn and opened a sliding door.
When we got to the neighbor’s rickety fence, Danym dismounted and took a hunk of meat out of his saddlebag. My questioning gaze was quickly satisfied as a giant mastiff thundered toward us with globs of saliva flinging from the hound’s flopping jowls.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t bark. He can make the mountains shake with his howl.” Danym half whispered, half shouted, “Timber, come here, boy! Treat!”
At the mention of the T word, Timber bolted forward. I released a breath as he accepted the bribe and a scratch behind his ears as he chomped. When a silent peace had been established, Danym dug into his saddlebag, retrieved a large meaty bone, and dropped it before Timber to keep him occupied.
“Let’s go,” Danym said, climbing back atop his horse.
We’d nearly made it through the neighbor’s field when a man called out, “Over here! I’ve got fresh tracks.”
Danym spurred his horse into a gallop, and we raced through the neighbor’s gate and onto the main road, urging speed from our mounts the moment their hooves struck firmer ground.
The sun had yet to make an appearance, and the quarter-moon offered only milky light.
When we finally reached the Cathedral of the One, the last major landmark before crossing beyond the borders of Fontaine, I slowed Dittler to a halt.
“We shouldn’t stay here long. The sun’s coming up, and people will start showing up for morning prayers,” Danym said.
“I know,” I said. “But Dittler needs a rest. He’s blowing hard, and your horse looks even worse. We should find water for them, too.”
We walked the horses in a wide arc around the Cathedral, pleased to find a wooded area that shielded us from view. I fed the horses while Danym retrieved a bucket of water we’d spotted near the Cathedral’s hitching post.
“They really love you.” Danym’s voice held wonder as he watched both horses eating out of my hand and nuzzling my shoulder.
I smiled and rubbed Dittler’s ear. “I adore them, and they feel it through my Gift.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “Unlike with people, they can’t hide their emotions from me, and I can’t shield mine from them. There’s a purity in that openness. I know that sounds silly, but that’s how it feels. It’s honest in a way people never are.”
“People . . . other than us, right?”
I turned back to find his brow raised. “Yes, other than us.”
The King’s Road crossed from one end of the Kingdom to the other and was wide and well maintained once travelers made it past the Spires, but within the shadow of the mountains, the road was narrow, winding, and often covered in ice.
From our vantage behind the Cathedral, we could see the western leg of the mountains, and I already felt a chill in the air that heralded the onset of the infamous northern winter.
Danym noticed me staring at the frosty peaks. “That’s what we have to pass through. Are you sure you still want to go through with this? Last chance to change your mind.”
“No turning back.” I packed as much confidence into my words as I could. “They’re beautiful.”
“Tell me that after a few days of riding through them.” He smirked. “All right, here we go. It should take about an hour to get to the base of the mountains, then another seven or eight days to Spoke.”
“That long? I’ve never made the trip, but it doesn’t look that far on my father’s maps.”
“It’s not that far, but the road winds up and down, around and through. You’ll see. It’s a challenging trip, and we risk laming the horses if we push too hard, especially in places where rocks or limbs have fallen onto the road. In another month, snow and ice will cover everything,
and it’ll be impassable.”
“Well, good thing we’re leaving now. Lead on, my dear boy.” I waved in a commanding gesture.
Danym gave a half bow from his saddle. “Yes, Your—my lady.”