Chapter 17 Fleeing
Fleeing
Her heart pounded so hard she could feel her pulse throbbing behind her eyes. The hallway was damp and shadowed, the only light coming from small skylights in the ceiling. But with night pressing in, she was left navigating in near darkness.
She bunched up the skirts of her gown, keeping the fabric as close to her body as possible to avoid making sound and picking up dust and dirt. She wished she had pants—and a torch.
There was no turning back, no time to dally or second guess; it was now or never. She could figure out clothes, supplies, and money once she had her freedom.
The hallway shifted right—a telling sign that the exit was close, based on the map she’d studied and tried to memorize.
Her ragged breaths echoed off the stony brick walls, the only sound besides her footsteps in the empty passage.
As Luna continued down the path, the tunnel closed in, forcing her to duck and shuffle sideways in order to pass through.
Soon, she reached another doorway and pulled it open.
The thin wooden door creaked with age. She stepped down two stairs, stopping behind what she assumed was the back of another tapestry.
This must be the passage leading into another hallway, the only part of the route that was out in the open.
Once she entered this hallway, she would need to find the other tapestry that covered the connecting passage, then she would be free.
She put her hand on her chest, as if that would help slow her racing heart.
For several long moments, she stood behind the tapestry. When she didn’t hear any footsteps or voices, she peered around the left side of it. She looked up and down the red-carpeted hallway, which was lined with paintings similar to the hallway that led to the Grand Hall.
It was empty.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was still at the ball; that must have been why Emily and Prince Kieran planned tonight for her escape—they knew no one would be around to catch her sneaking out.
Summoning courage, Luna climbed out from behind the tapestry.
The hallway was stuffy and barely lit, but she wasted no time, running from painting to painting, probing the sides of each one in her search for the next secret passage.
Nothing.
None of the paintings budged, but she was sure the blueprints had said it was across and to the right of where she had come from.
She retraced her steps. Standing before a large oak tree painting with a child swinging on one of the branches, she pulled at the edge of the painting again; there was no give.
Frustrated, she stomped her foot. She jerked back in surprise, eyebrows drawing together; the floor sounded hollow.
Quickly, she dropped to her knees, her hands scrambling across the carpet, searching for an edge.
There!
She grabbed the edge of the carpet and peeled it off the floor, revealing a trapdoor. Luna nearly screamed with glee as she fumbled and struggled to undo the latch. Just as she got it open, someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.
“Where do you think you are going?” Clyde asked, his tone sharp.
Where had he come from? How was she going to explain this? There was no faking innocence now.
With a scoff of annoyance, she pulled her arm away from him and squared her shoulders, smoothing her skirt. If she couldn’t play innocent, she was at least going to pretend to be confident. “Nowhere that concerns you.”
He lifted his chin. “Anything you do concerns me.”
She would have found those words sweet in a different lifetime, but right now, he was blocking her from her freedom.
His eyes darkened, and she shuddered in response. Memories of him holding his sword against her throat flashed in her mind; fear wrapped around her core, paralyzing her.
With a delicate touch, he brushed his fingers along one of her arms, pausing at her shoulder. “Believe it or not, Luna. I know you. I knew the second you entered that room, you’d use His Highness to access the secret passages.”
He released a deep, drawn-out exhale, his fingers resuming their dance across her skin.
She had a part to play, and so she leaned into his devastatingly addictive touch.
Why did this man have to ruin everything?
If he genuinely cared for her, wouldn’t he have turned a blind eye and allowed her to escape?
“Please, Clyde. I can’t do what the king has asked of me.
” If only she knew how to control her powers, she could use them to help her out of this situation.
“Grythorn’s future is in your hands, and I won’t let you take the coward’s way out.
” Clyde’s voice softened, and he spoke like he was coaxing a child out of a tantrum.
“You can’t run away from your destiny. I know you’re scared, the deadline to transform is approaching, but I am here for you.
I will be here when you transform and every moment after that.
I will make sure you’re alright, I promise. ”
It was not going to be alright. Didn’t he get it? She wasn’t going to transform, and nothing he, nor the king, could do or say would make her change her mind.
A plan formed in her mind. She straightened her spine and forced her shoulders to relax.
“Your words comfort me, and I feel silly for my actions.” A surprisingly easy lie.
“You’re right, Clyde. This is my future, and I shouldn’t run from it.
” Brushing her hand along her dress once more, she looked up at Clyde as if he was the reason her dress was such a mess.
“I need a moment alone to collect myself, then I will return to the ball ready to do what has been asked of me.” She prayed to the high skies above that he would believe her and give her the moment she’d asked for.
Or rather, enough time to open the trapdoor and flee.
“No,” he replied with absolution. “You look fine. I’m going to escort you back to the ball now.”
Dammit.
She was really hoping he’d have fallen for that, but this outcome didn’t surprise her—nothing in her life had ever been easy . . . or so simple.
She smiled at him prettily, hiding her disappointment. She so badly wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she couldn’t; she needed him to be at ease. There were other secret passages, and with the night still young, there was still a chance to find another way to escape.