Chapter 2 #3
Once she was in the clear, Alethea mounted her horse and drew the hood of her cloak tighter before carefully navigating through the north side of the capital city.
She could already taste the briny sea air from the white cliffs to the east. She thought of the dozens of ships docked in the bay there, bringing commerce from the three other kingdoms—Wolfecrest, Azmarin, and Rai’Sharr.
Despite her need to escape, Alethea wasn’t in search of a ship.
She wasn’t that desperate. Besides, where would she go?
There was no place she could sail to where her mother would not find her...
eventually. And her mother had made it quite clear the world was filled with monsters who would only use and abuse her for her powers.
All she needed was some fresh air away from the city of Hyelea; away from the high-rising, terracotta-roofed, white stone buildings.
She rode through the cobbled streets keeping her head down.
In the nicer neighborhoods, the streets were well-kept, but she knew one wrong turn was all it would take to see the darker side of the capital, where the holes in the cobblestones were large enough to shatter a cartwheel.
Her current path would not take her past those neglected places where children begged passersby for food or coin. She would not be welcomed there again.
No, she only sought a few hours to herself, away from the castle and her handmaidens who couldn’t keep a secret from her mother to save their lives—or her own.
It wouldn’t be long before her disappearance would be noticed, but compared to what the Crimson Queen would do to her when she learned what Alethea had prophesied, she was hardly worried about the consequences—an unusual feeling for the cloistered princess.
She continued on through the north gates of the city.
The few guards stationed there gave her a nod of acknowledgement, which she was sure they wouldn’t do if they knew who she really was.
For all they could tell, she was just another girl heading to one of the hamlets spread out along the outer border.
Hyelea had long outgrown its ancient city walls, and hundreds of souls dwelled just outside of its protection, commuting to the larger city for work and commerce.
Alethea did not take the main road, which would lead her to the northern town of Amylos, and then eventually to the province of Ephesus. Instead she broke off the gravel way and slipped into the forest along an old game trail, where she all but disappeared in the thick foliage.
The path was familiar but more overgrown than she remembered. Her father had once had these trails cleared for his own pleasure, as well as to aid the hunters who frequented the woods, but now they were unkempt from disuse.
Eventually, the city sounds faded away, and she began to hear the birds calling to one another. Several fluttered in the canopy overhead, and Alethea managed her very first smile as she watched them dart along. She was now far enough outside the city that she could finally breathe.
Her racing heartbeat finally slowed as she navigated the dense woods, taking in the earthy smells around her.
The coniferous cypress and juniper trees remained a beautiful and brilliant green, even with autumn’s impending threat to hand the Realm over to winter.
She was still fatigued from her time in the interrogation chambers, but she could sit upright despite the weariness in her bones, and that was all she needed to escape for a few hours.
“It’s just a prophecy,” she muttered to herself. “They don’t always come true the way you think they do.” But the words echoed in her mind.
“My mother will keep her crown until winter’s solstice...”
Alethea didn’t want to be queen. She didn’t want to be her mother, who spent most of her time arguing with her advisors or fretting over what to wear to her next engagement or hunting down conspirators.
Most of the citizens blamed the queen for the lack of distribution of wealth, and they were probably justified in doing so.
Zenobia and her advisors spent all their time hoarding wealth and power and little time governing, all the while desperate to stamp out any civil unrest. Simply imagining the kinds of decisions she would have to make as sovereign—who got resources, who went without—was enough to send Alethea into a panic.
And to do it alone? Well, that was her worst nightmare.
She followed the diminishing game trail, the mare’s steps curving and recurving beneath her as her thoughts chased themselves in circles, each path collapsing into the same dead end.
Alethea had no siblings or cousins on her father’s side to take up the mantle.
The Onasis line ended with her. Would her mother believe this was what she wanted?
That she was some conspirator? She had to know Alethea held no such ambition.
As they wandered along the rolling path, Hyelea’s hilly countryside changing Alethea’s view every time the mare crested another knoll, her thoughts traveled to her father.
He wasn’t someone she allowed herself to think of too often—it rarely did anything but leave her spiraling into her own shame and sadness.
But breathing in the unforgettable scent of the juniper and pine forest, she allowed herself a moment to remember a man who had treated her with kindness and looked at her with those brilliant hazel eyes as if she was something to be treasured.
She hardly realized how late it was getting until the sun began to set.
She’d left the castle just after three bell tolls, and the afternoon had slipped away from her with her endlessly spinning thoughts.
The days were shortening, and she’d been too distracted to mark the passing hours.
As the light faded, the world lost its sharpness—edges blurring, the distance turning to guesswork—so she turned her horse back toward the castle before the dark could fully claim her.
But after one unfamiliar tree cluster, then another, she feared that chance had already passed.
All the while, the moonless sky darkened by the minute.
Silence fell over the trail. Not even the birds sang.
The chestnut mare grew restless as Alethea pushed harder, shaking her head and snorting, refusing to move forward along the barely-there trail.
Alethea groaned in frustration, dismounting and reaching for the reins to lead the stubborn horse down the path ahead of them, though she herself could hardly see two feet in front of her.
Even the stars hid their radiance behind low-hanging clouds.
Before she could fully collect herself on the ground, however, the mare spooked and reared, screaming.
Alethea tried to calm her, but the mare’s efforts yanked the reins out of her hands, and she bolted the opposite way.
Alethea groaned, knowing she would never be able to catch up to the beast now.
She considered chasing after the mare, listening for the sound of hoofbeats in the distance, but she knew she might end up spending her entire night searching the hundreds of acres spanning before her.
Not to mention, far worse creatures prowled uninhabited woods at night—snakes, coyotes, wolves, bears, giant spiders.
Though these creatures tended to stay away from the city, Alethea was far enough out that any number of threats could turn her night from bad to worse.
Sighing heavily, she forced herself to give up on finding the horse tonight.
With any luck, it was heading back to the city—and to safety—which was more than she knew how to do for herself.
She would have to walk back on foot. A thin layer of sweat had gathered on her brow—whether from the exertion of trying to navigate alone, or from the terror creeping up into her throat, she wasn’t sure.
She could just barely see something like a clearing up ahead, and she was picking up her pace, rushing toward it, when a strong arm wrapped forcefully around her middle, yanking her backward. Alethea’s lips parted in a scream, but a rough hand came up to cover her mouth.
“Careful now.”
The low, masculine voice commanded her to peer back the way she’d been heading.
As her eyes strained to adjust to the darkness, she could just make out that she had not been rushing toward a clearing at all.
Alethea had nearly gone over the ledge of a thirty-foot drop.
Terror gripped her as her eyes adjusted, and she peered over the edge of the cliff, realizing how close she had come to sudden death.
“The cliffs here are deceiving, and the fall is unforgiving.”
She quickly pushed away from his grasp. It was difficult to discern his features, but he was much taller than most people she knew, and he had a strong, steady build.