Chapter 8 #3
“Might I remind you that you are the one who initially followed me?”
I gritted my teeth at that poor lapse in judgement. This wouldn’t be the first time my curiosity had gotten me into a scrape. But I’d escaped all the others, and this one would be no different.
Try as I might, I couldn’t seem to evade my persistent shadow, who now seemed to be playing a game of guess your crime as he trailed me.
“Let’s see,” he mused. “What sort of crime would someone with such spirit be running from? Perhaps you're an urchin who stole from the princess, and in your rush to escape, you forgot your shoes.”
He smirked at my bare feet, now creeping on tiptoe as I moved from hedge to hedge, carefully obscuring myself from the patrolling guards when their backs were turned.
I rolled my eyes. “There are much more interesting items to steal than clothes.”
His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine surprise at last. “Are you a thief?”
I ignored him, but unfortunately my silence did little to deter him.
“Hmm, interesting. So perhaps it was something more substantial you were after. The crown jewels from the royal treasury, perhaps? Or the crown itself?”
“I’d rather be imprisoned for life than endure such a fate,” I muttered, which earned another amused chuckle.
“Perhaps being a thief is a red herring and you didn't steal at all,” he offered thoughtfully. “Perhaps your true crime is you’re trying to corner some unfortunate man and trap him into marriage. Me, perhaps? We've already established I'm the man of your dreams.”
“And we’ve already determined you’re ineligible.” I shot him another glare, but he merely raised a single eyebrow, amusement dancing in those stormy eyes—as if he knew exactly how deep under my skin he’d burrowed and was enjoying every second. My aggravation sharpened.
No matter how ridiculous his theories—or dangerously accurate—I refused to let them derail my focus.
I tuned him out as best I could—along with the peculiar stir in my chest with each flirtatious word—and focused instead on creeping quietly along the perimeter.
I frequently paused to ensure none of the guards had noticed me, slipping through the shadows like I’d done a hundred times before…
though never with such an insufferable companion at my heels.
It didn’t take long to return to where I’d slipped into the palace grounds the night before.
I studied the gate with a pensive frown.
It was unmistakably the same—I recognized the grooves I’d traced in the dark—yet now it pulsed with the same barrier magic I’d encountered earlier, which I was certain hadn’t been there before.
I stared at the place I could no longer pass through, invisible bars entrapping me, a cage I hadn’t realized I’d entered until it was too late.
I stiffened as Evander’s presence drew closer behind me. “Quite the predicament,” he murmured. “Perhaps I could offer you a leg up?”
Now he was just taunting me, dangling the illusion of freedom, even as every exit slipped further from reach. “As satisfying as it would be to step on you and soil those fancy clothes,” I said, not turning around, “I prefer the challenge of solving my own riddles.”
“That sounds less like a challenge and more like a desperation to prove yourself, even when the odds are against you.”
His words landed harder than he likely realized.
In truth, I’d never had anyone but myself and my own skill to rely on.
And yet, like too many times before, it wasn’t enough.
The bitter discouragement threatened to engulf me, but I hastily suppressed it; I couldn’t afford to let it show.
Distractions had no place during an escape attempt.
I clenched my jaw. Normally, I relished a good verbal game of truth and misdirection, but this one left me feeling exposed, as if capture was inevitable, even while I stood still.
My control—the very thing that had kept me alive this long—was slipping, stolen by a man with storm-colored eyes and a voice that sounded far too much like memory.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the tangle of thoughts.
He’s merely trying to distract me. The realization gave me every reason to ignore him.
And yet, sense seemed to be waging a relentless battle against my traitorous heart which, against all logic, appeared thoroughly entertained by the challenge his presence posed.
I should have walked away, solved the puzzle of my escape on my own. That was how I survived. But something in his far too knowing voice stirred an ache I hadn’t expected, a whisper of familiarity I didn’t want to name.
I hesitated before conceding the battle with a sigh. “Very well. Supposing I submit myself to your so-called superior wisdom—any ideas on how to escape an enchanted prison?”
His lips curled up mischievously. “Ask me nicely enough, and you might just find out.”
I eyed his velvet attire. Somehow, I doubted prison-breaking was part of a noble curriculum. I had just decided it might be worth the cost to my pride to ask when the sudden clamor of approaching footsteps and the metallic jangle of armor eclipsed all thought.
The guards had finally found me. And with their sheer numbers and the magic-sealed wall now barring my only exit, I had nowhere left to run.
Evander’s expression shifted—not to fear, but calculation. “Well,” he murmured, almost amused, “that certainly complicates things.”