Chapter 11
11
CAT
A fter Damien shifted back into his human form, we walked back across the border to the Northern District, far away from the pandemonium and destruction we caused at the black market. With the hoods of our cloaks pulled low over our heads, we navigated the streets under the cover of darkness and tried to avoid being seen. Damien reached for my hand and tugged me closer to him. The warmth of his skin on mine felt like a warm blanket had covered my entire body. It was a sort of protection and safety I didn’t like feeling from him. He was too unreliable.
Silence between us stretched as we walked, filled only by the soft echoes of our footsteps on the cobblestone. The night was cool and the earlier adrenaline slowly ebbed away, replaced by quiet tension.
“You did well tonight,” Damien finally broke the silence, his voice low and introspective. “I didn't expect you to handle everything so... efficiently.”
I snorted softly, and the corners of my mouth twitched into a reluctant smile. “What, you thought I'd freeze up? Damien, I'm not some damsel in distress. I can handle a bit of fire.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through the quiet night. “No, I didn’t think you would freeze up, and I know you're no damsel. It's just... you're full of surprises, Cat.”
The way he said my name, tinged with a hint of something undefinable, made my stomach flutter against my will. “Well,” I said, exhaling slowly, my voice tinged with something softer, almost wistful. “You don’t know this about me, but back in my world, I was in the Army.”
That got his attention. His eyes widened, a flicker of curiosity and disbelief crossing his features. “You were a soldier?”
I nodded, a faint smile pulling at my lips. “82nd Airborne Division, baby,” I said with a wink. “I was a paratrooper. The skies were my domain, which is why I don’t freak out flying around on the back of a dragon. I’m kind of an expert at high altitudes.”
Damien’s brow furrowed as he processed my words. “Paratrooper?” he echoed, clearly puzzled. “What does that mean? You… rode other dragons?” he growled. There was a hint of something dangerous in his voice, like the very idea of me riding any dragon other than him was an unforgivable crime.
I laughed so hard I had to stop walking, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “No! No, Damien, we don’t have dragons where I’m from. Trust me, if we did, I would’ve ridden into battle like a badass Khaleesi.”
He tilted his head, his confusion deepening. “What’s a Khaleesi?”
“Never mind.” I waved him off and continued walking. “The point is, we don’t have mystical creatures back home, but we do have airplanes. Big metal contraptions with wings that fly through the sky.”
Damien blinked, clearly trying to wrap his head around this. “Metal… that flies? You’re joking.”
“Nope.” I grinned, loving his bewilderment. “Picture this: a giant metal bird—okay, not a bird, but it kind of looks like one—filled with people, food, and sometimes really loud children who kick the back of your seat for six hours straight. That’s an airplane.”
“And it… flies?” he asked again, as if saying it twice would somehow make it make sense.
“It does,” I said proudly. “We’ve got engines, wings, and a whole lot of engineering magic. Well, not actual magic, but science—which is basically the same thing. Anyway, paratroopers jump out of those airplanes mid-flight with parachutes strapped to their backs.”
Damien stopped walking altogether and stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You jumped out of flying metal birds?”
“Yep,” I said, popping the “p” for emphasis. “It’s kind of our whole thing. They shove you out of the plane at high altitudes, and you freefall for a bit before your parachute opens. If it doesn’t open, you’ve got a backup chute, and if that fails… well, let’s just say it’s not a great day to be you.”
He blinked again, his expression a mixture of disbelief and horror. “And you… volunteered for this?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Plus, the thought of staying on the ground while other people flew through the skies? Nah, not for me. I had to be in the thick of it.”
Damien rubbed his temples like he was getting a headache. “So, let me get this straight. Your people built metal contraptions that defy gravity, you willingly jumped out of them, and you trusted… what? Cloth? Rope? To save your life?”
“Pretty much,” I said cheerfully. “Although I wouldn’t call it just cloth and rope. Those parachutes are high-tech. Well, mostly. Occasionally they’d have holes in them, but hey, you don’t really think about that when you’re plummeting toward the earth at terminal velocity.”
He stared at me, utterly flabbergasted. “Your world is insane.”
“You’re telling me.” I grinned. “But hey, at least we didn’t have fire-breathing dragons running around. That’s a whole different kind of insanity.”
Damien snorted and shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified.”
“Go with impressed,” I suggested. “It’s the safer bet.”
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “You really are full of surprises, Cat.”
I winked. “Just wait. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to read his expression in the dim light. “And what about you? Shifting into a dragon, setting buildings on fire... You're like a character straight out of some dark fairy tale.”
Damien's laugh faded and he looked ahead, his gaze distant. “Sometimes I feel like I am,” he admitted. “Trapped in a story I didn't write. But tonight, with you, it felt like maybe I could change the ending.”
His words hung in the air, weighted with meanings I wasn't sure I wanted to unravel. We continued walking in silence for a few moments before I gathered the courage to ask the question that had been burning inside me since we started this whole ordeal.
“So, what happens now? We burned down their ring, disrupted their operations, stole their money... Do you think it'll be enough to stop whatever's coming?”
Damien's grip on my hand tightened. “I don't know,” he confessed. “But it's a start. And with Thorne removing their funds, we've at least put a dent in their resources. We just need to stay vigilant.”
“And the emperor?” I pressed. “What if he finds out what we've done?”
Damien's jaw clenched and a shadow crossed his features. “Then we face that when it comes. I'm tired of running from shadows, Cat. It's time to confront them.”
The palpable conviction in his voice stirred something within me—equal parts fear and admiration. “Just don't expect me to start trusting you completely,” I warned, only half-joking.
He pulled me to a stop and turned to face me with an intensity in his eyes that made my heart stutter. “I wouldn't dream of it,” he said seriously. “But maybe, just maybe, you could start.”
The air between us charged with an unspoken challenge, the streets around us silent witnesses to our late-night confessions. I looked up at him, the man who was both my captor and, strangely, my ally, and slowly nodded. “Maybe,” I echoed.
We resumed walking in companionable silence toward the border of the Northern District just ahead, consumed with thoughts of the unknown future that stretched out before us like darkened streets under a moonlit sky.
“Arya!”
The sound of my so-called name startled us both. We looked over to see Jacob running across the border with Maeve close on his heels.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Looks like I’m busted.”
“You didn’t let Maeve know you were sneaking out?” Damien murmured as we stood frozen on the street.
I shook my head. “No. She’s practically in love with my pretend brother. How could I tell her? She’d blab the first chance she got.” I turned to Damien. “Look, if Jacob figures out who you are, this won’t end well – for either of us. It’s best if you go.”
“Cat—”
I pulled my hand out of his grip and pushed him away. “Go!”
He hesitated for a second before darting down an alley and disappearing into the darkness, although I would put money down that he wasn’t truly gone and was still watching from afar. Damien wasn’t the type to leave a damsel in distress, no matter what he claimed.
“Arya, what in the immortals are you thinking ?” Jacob scolded. “Father grounded you and you’re out at this hour with…” He glanced around. “Who was that?”
I waved off his question. “No one.”
“Didn’t seem like no one to me!” he fumed. “You were holding hands. From my understanding, Prince Damien can only come onto the mainland once a month, so your midnight visitor couldn’t have been him… unless…”
“It’s not!” I interrupted.
“Arya!” he exclaimed, his face a mask of scandalized horror. “You cannot fool around with multiple men. You have a reputation to uphold!”
I rolled my eyes and looked away. Only in this era did they really care about a woman’s reputation. Then again, it wasn’t so different in the twenty-first century, either.
Jacob's expression softened a bit as he saw my frustration. “I'm just trying to look out for you, Arya. You know how precarious our family's situation is right now. We cannot afford any scandals.”
Maeve finally caught up, her cheeks flushed from running. She looked from Jacob to me, her eyes wide with concern. “My lady, Lord Zacharia is furious. He's demanding to know where you've been all night!”
I sighed heavily, the weight of my borrowed identity pressing down on me. “I was just... clearing my head, Maeve. Let's go back. I can handle Father.”
“Clearing your head in the Southern District?” Jacob pointed in the direction I’d come from with a disbelieving sneer.
I looked over my shoulder and back at him with a bright smile and a wink. “Of course! The Southern District has some of the best taverns.”
“You would never go to a tavern in the Southern District, Arya,” Jacob said knowingly. “They disgust you.”
“I’m not the same Arya you knew two years ago, Jacob. Remember that.”
Jacob eyed me skeptically, trying to catch me in a lie, but eventually nodded. He sighed. “Let’s head back before Father sends the guards.” Without another word, he turned around and led us back toward the Ryder residence.
With each step toward that perfumed prison, the tension steadily built in my shoulders. I knew the confrontation awaiting me would be anything but pleasant.
Maeve leaned in as we walked, pitching her voice low. “Was that Damien? It looked like him.”
I glanced at her, a small smirk playing on my lips despite the situation. “Maybe. But let's keep that between us, okay? I need to sort some things out first.”
She nodded, her expression serious. “Of course, my lady. Always.”
As the ornate gates of the Ryder compound came into view, the reality of my double life weighed heavily on me. Inside, I'd have to continue playing the part of Arya, dealing with an angry father and a confused family. But outside, standing in the night shadows with Damien, I was someone else entirely — someone caught between worlds, making choices that could change everything. But at least I could be myself.
The challenge was keeping those two worlds from colliding disastrously.
Jacob glanced at me as we walked up the stone path, his brow furrowed with concern. “Arya, you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever is going on, you're not alone in this.”
I forced a smile, appreciating his attempt at brotherly comfort, though it felt hollow, given he believed I was someone else. “I know, Jacob. It's just been a long night.”
Maeve kept close, offering silent support with her steadfast presence. When we neared the front door, it swung open, revealing Lord Zacharia standing in the threshold with a thunderous expression.
“Arya, where have you been ?” His voice boomed across the courtyard, drawing the attention of a few dawdling servants who surreptitiously peeked out from behind doors.
Everyone should have been asleep, but it looked like he’d woken everyone up to look for me. Up until now, he rarely cared what I was doing. What had changed?
“Out,” I replied simply, trying to muster Arya's typical haughtiness. “I needed some air after that disastrous luncheon we had the other day.”
“Until sunrise?” Lord Zacharia stepped forward, his gaze sharp. “Unacceptable. You know better than to roam the streets at night, especially with everything for our family at stake right now.”
Jacob stepped in front of me and valiantly tried to diffuse the tension. “Father, she's back now. Let's not overdo the lecture. Arya understands, don't you?” He turned to me and fixed me with a stern look.
I nodded, though inside I bristled at the charade. “Of course, Father. It won't happen again.”
Lord Zacharia's eyes narrowed slightly, not quite convinced. “We will discuss this further in the morning. Go to your room, Arya, and stay there. You are to be confined to your room until further notice.”
As I turned to head inside, Maeve whispered to me, her voice laced with worry. “My lady, be careful. I sense there's more to this night than they’re letting on.”
I squeezed her hand briefly, a silent thank you for her loyalty and understanding. “I will, Maeve. Thank you.” We hustled toward my room with Jacob hot on our heels. “I don’t need a chaperone, Jacob. Maeve is already one,” I sang without looking back at him.
“I spoke to Father and told him I would be keeping a close eye on you from now on,” he said.
I stopped walking and whirled on him. “You said what, now?”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t know who you met up with tonight, Arya, but I think you’re into something strange. You are strange. You’re different from the Arya I once knew.”
I gulped. He was right about one thing; I was different, and that was because I wasn’t his damn sister. And the minute he discovered the truth, all hell would break loose. None of Arya’s family members could find out the truth. Lord Zacharia was hard to read, I believed Gianna was secretly evil, and Jacob was filled with too much integrity. The only person I could somewhat trust was Maeve.
“I don’t know if they told you, but I recently had an accident.” I pointed to my forehead. “I hit my head and forgot a lot of things. It’s made me… different.”
Jacob frowned. “No. They didn’t tell me.”
I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It happened a couple weeks ago. A boat accident during a rainstorm. I’m fine, but I have memory loss.”
“Did… did you know who I was at the parade?” he hesitantly asked.
I shook my head. “No, Maeve had to point you out.”
“By the immortals!” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry, Arya. Had I known—”
“It’s okay, Jacob. I’m honestly just trying to survive at this point,” I said cautiously. “I know Father is upset, but if you could—”
He sighed. “Now I feel like I need to watch you even more.”
I frowned. “Wait, what?”
Jacob’s eyes were earnest. “You’re fragile and vulnerable. You need to be cared for, Arya,” he said thoughtfully. “I have a banquet at the palace tomorrow night. I was going to bring Gianna since she’s usually more suited for these events, but why don’t you come with me? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone.”
My mouth fell open and closed multiple times like a fish out of water. I was stunned and speechless, mainly because I hadn’t thought this plan through and didn’t anticipate the sharp left the conversation had taken. I assumed I’d get some pity from Jacob and he’d shrug his shoulders and be like, Well, feel better, Sis . But no, I’d forgotten about his damn integrity.
I rushed to do damage control. “Honestly, Jacob, I’m okay. With Maeve by my side, I’m—”
“No, Arya,” he cut me off. “While I’m thankful for Maeve’s help until now, you need family. Now that I’m here, I’ll care for you.”
Son of a bitch.
I chuckled awkwardly. “Right… Thanks, big bro.” I patted his shoulder, and he frowned at my unusual term. I decided to change the subject. “So what’s this banquet for?”
He brightened. “It’s a welcoming banquet from the emperor for the Nightwing battalion. Everyone from my unit is invited since we’ve been away for two years.”
“Is Father going, since he’s a minister?” I asked tentatively.
Jacob nodded. “Yes. All the ministers and council members, as well as the royal family will be in attendance.”
All the royal family members except for Damien, that is , I thought miserably.
When Jacob extended his invitation to the upcoming banquet, I sensed the weight of the evening's significance in the air. A formal affair with the emperor, welcoming his favorite battalion back from the borders.
“It's a great honor,” Jacob continued, his voice carrying a twinge of pride and responsibility. “It'll be an excellent opportunity for our family to reconnect with the court and the emperor.”
I nodded and tried to muster enthusiasm. “Sounds like I'll need to polish up on my courtly manners,” I said lightly, hoping to inject a bit of levity into the conversation.
Jacob didn't smile. His demeanor remained earnest, reflecting the seriousness of his military role and the formal nature of the occasion. “Yes, that’s a good idea. It's important that we present ourselves well. The emperor values discipline and decorum.”
Maeve, who had been quietly observing, interjected with a touch of concern in her voice. “I'll prepare something appropriate. Elegant, yet fitting.”
“That's the spirit, Maeve. Dress to impress, but ready to evade,” I quipped, trying to keep my growing anxiety at bay. “Can’t risk outshining the emperor, can we?” I couldn’t help the tinge of feigned solemnity.
“Be a bit more serious, Arya,” Jacob reprimanded. “This event is not a joking matter.”
I grimaced. “My bad.”
As we walked back towards my room, the conversation turned towards the logistics of the event. “Will Gianna be attending?” Given her history with Damien, her presence could further complicate dynamics.
Jacob shook his head. “No, this event is strictly for the imperial court and those directly involved with the border missions. Since I’m taking you as my companion, Gianna will need to stay behind.”
“That’s a relief,” I admitted, feeling a momentary ease at avoiding potential familial friction at such a public event.
“Are things still fraught between the two of you?” Jacob raised a brow and peered over at me with a knowing glance.
“They’re… complicated,” I said cryptically. “To put it bluntly, the girl hates me.”
He gave a dry chuckle. “Well, you haven’t made her life easy, Arya. Just because she’s the daughter of a servant doesn’t mean she’s not your sister.”
“It’s not my fault our father couldn’t keep it in his pants,” I murmured under my breath.
He cocked his head to the side. “What did you say?”
I shook my head and shrugged. “Nothing. All I’m saying is that after my accident, I tried to fix things between us, but it seems like she doesn’t want to let bygones be bygones.”
Jacob's expression softened, but the serious lines of his military upbringing remained etched around his eyes. “Sister, I understand that the dynamics within our family can be challenging, but you're still sisters by blood. Perhaps once we get past the banquet, this could be a time for healing.”
I scoffed, my humor dry as the autumn leaves whirling on the ground outside. “Healing sounds grand, but Gianna has the memory of an elephant and the forgiveness of a loan shark. I'm not expecting miracles.”
As we approached the heavy oak door of my bedroom, I sensed Jacob's hesitation to leave things unresolved. “Arya, just promise me you'll try. For Father’s sake, if not for your own. He worries about you two more than you might realize.”
Yeah, I doubted that, but whatever. I wasn’t about to burst his bubble so soon after arriving back to his home.
“I'll try, Jacob. No promises on miracles, but I'll try,” I conceded. Maeve swept past us and opened the door, the hinges whispering secrets into the cool air of my room.
“Good night, Arya. Get some rest; tomorrow will be a long day.” Jacob turned to my maidservant, gracing her with a look that snapped her to attention. “Maeve, please get my sister some warm milk.” With a supportive nod to me, he turned to leave.
“Yes, young master.” Maeve curtsied and took off toward the kitchen.
As his steps softly echoed down the hall, I stepped into my room and closed the door behind me. Alone with my thoughts, the weight of the upcoming day pressed down on me. The banquet wasn't just about social appearances; it was also a test of my ability to navigate the treacherous waters of court politics while wearing someone else's shoes.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I ran my fingers along the bedspread’s cool, embroidered fabric and contemplated my role in the upcoming event. The texture was intricate, much like the web of lies in which I found myself entangled. Tomorrow, I would have to be Arya, the unruly and conniving daughter, while inside, I struggled against the confines of a life she never chose.
Taking a deep breath, I resolved to face the banquet with all the grace I could muster. For Jacob, for the stability of the Ryder family, and perhaps, somewhere deep down, for myself too, to prove how well I could navigate this strange, convoluted chapter of my life.
With that, I lay down, letting the fatigue of the day pull me into a restless sleep filled with dreams of fire and shadows that echoed the turmoil of my waking world.