CHAPTER 6
The next morning, I drifted through the castle, steering clear of the staff as I searched the exits. The fortress felt like a maze, and every area with access to the outside was heavily guarded. That meant I’d have to be creative.
After some time strolling through corridors, I made my way back to my bedroom and gazed out the window where the tunnel that led to the Northern Forest lay. The only path to reach the station was guarded by battle mages around the clock, though they seemed to swap shifts at regular intervals.
They were bundled in heavy coats, fur-lined around their necks. I’d need to wear something just as warm and leave my luggage behind.
During the day, it seemed much harder to slip through, with workers constantly moving about. Night would be my best shot.
If I made it out, I would need to cross that forest to reach the trains.
That part would prove the most perilous, but I was already working on it.
Once I made it to the station, I could board any train to escape, and they wouldn’t find me.
And even if they did, I would rather be with Father and Joy, having warned them, than letting them be discovered. I saw how they treated threats here.
Inside the room, the air had grown thick and stifling. I drew back the dark curtains and pushed the heavy glass panes open. A rush of freezing air flooded in, prickling my skin with goosebumps.
The cold didn’t bother me. It felt like home.
Ehrfurt was a mountain town where warmth was a rare visitor, yet its people had long since grown accustomed to the harshness of its weather. Otherwise, it was small and secluded, turning into a ghost town by midwinter.
A predictable and uneventful town, with nothing else to explore or learn but the same routine repeating over and over again. It wasn’t a bad routine, though. It offered companionship, decent lovers, and honest work.
Not bad at all. No reason to want to hurl myself down the steepest hill.
It didn’t really matter. I needed to go back, nonetheless. Salvage those shipments first because we couldn’t afford to lose them. And it had to be me.
It was abundantly clear that Father couldn’t handle any more weeks of endless standing and exhausting travel. His condition had taken a toll on his energy. No matter how much rest he got, no matter how well he ate, he was just . . . not the same.
It was just the three of us, and I was older than Joy. Twenty-four to her twenty-two. Besides, Father and I would be worrying about her.
Without the money from the fair, our accounts would be nearly drained by the end of the month, so I would be away for that long. That was the agreement. Joy would be left alone to shoulder the house, the chores, and the care of Father. I could already feel the strain it was going to put on her.
I exhaled sharply, the cold air escaping in a visible puff.
Joy would be fine. She could manage everything, including herself. But worry still gnawed at me with the thought that I wouldn’t be there if she needed me. If another episode happened.
I couldn’t let her manage everything for too long. There was no way I would stay here for a damn year.
A few drops fell on the window jamb, melting instantly. I stared ahead, squinting as more began to appear, and swallowed the sob in my throat. It wasn’t raining.
It was snow. The first snow of the season—or would be at home.
Despite the freezing cold, a rush of warmth covered my chest, like a small flicker of hope I needed.
White flakes floated down, twirling in the breeze as the ground gradually turned white.
My shoulders sagged. I lost track of time watching it until a knock on the door startled me.
I stood up, wiping the tears that had fallen down my cheeks. The room had grown freezing and darker. I walked to the door and cracked it open, finding a tall figure on the other side.
Reagan.
I stifled the urge to shut the door.
“I came to see if you’d jumped,” he said, grinning.
That tone. It was so at odds with the last time I saw him in the Citizens’ Audience, staring over the spot where he ruthlessly bled that man. I didn’t dare to ask what had been done to him.
“What do you want?”
“It feels like it’s cold in there.” He looked over my head to the open window.
“I like it,” I answered, feeling the frustration prickle in my voice.
Can he smell the flower in my room?
He couldn’t come any closer. I couldn’t risk it.
He only nodded, his lower lip pushing upward, surprised and at the same time uninterested. “You didn’t come to dinner.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lied, wishing he wouldn’t notice the swelling beneath my eyes.
“I was hoping we could talk about your situation,” he said.
I stayed in the doorway, my back against the frame, waiting.
“You’re worried about your family. When I said that we should take care of it, I didn’t mean what you think.”
He paused, and I nodded for him to continue.
“We can be very persuasive,” he said, measuring his words. “We can influence the human mind. We can convince your family not to worry about you. You only need to think of a reason why you won’t come back home for now, and we’ll help them believe it.”
“Help them believe it?” I repeated, smothering the chill down my spine.
“It doesn’t hurt them,” he said quickly, brushing the thought aside. “Finnegan would give them something to drink. It makes people more suggestible.”
When I didn’t respond, he added, “It’s harmless. A draught, that’s all.”
My breath stilled. “No.”
He held my gaze, unblinking.
“My answer is no. I won’t let you poison my family.”
“It’s not poison. Would you rather they come after you and end up like you almost did?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t want him to know I planned to be out of this place before my family would even try to look for me.
“Listen, I don’t care what story we feed your family. I’m giving you a choice here, but if you don’t make one, we’ll make one for you. Is that what you want?”
He clicked his tongue, and my arms dropped to my sides.
“So,” Reagan said, “come up with something convincing. Make it good enough that they don’t come looking.”
The threat sat clear in his words; he carried it without raising his voice.
Heat gathered in my chest.
“You’re loathsome,” I said.
Reckless. I corrected myself silently. Not because I believed my insult would make him kinder, but because the truth was, I had no real leverage. I had to filter myself, keep my reactions controlled, or this would get worse.
A breeze slipped in through the window behind us.
I drew a shallow breath as the hallway candles stuttered, one after another, their light thinning to shadows.
Stray strands of hair brushed my cheek, and the thin fabric of my dress clung to my thighs.
A damn strong wind that I hoped didn’t carry the Velvetshades scent.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and stilled. Regan’s gaze was heavy, assessing. His power grazed my skin like static, and I didn’t dare move. He didn’t look around the room.
His eyes traced my body, slow and deliberate, pausing where the dress drew tight before meeting mine again. There was a glint there, something amused, predatory.
“You should put on something warmer,” he said, flashing a knowing grin. “Unless it’s not the cold that makes your hands shake.”
His eyes roamed, watching the subtle ways my body betrayed me.
“Funny how we react the same,” he continued softly. “And yet we don’t. You sensed danger, tensed, and now you’re ready to run. Your instinct quickened your pulse to an adorable pace.”
I let him think he was intimidating me. “Shouldn’t I be afraid?”
Reagan didn’t answer, looking sickly amused by my reaction. I ignored the way my pulse was racing and tried to refocus on his question.
“So I have to come up with a lie about why I’m being held prisoner?”
“Prisoner?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “You’re free to go anywhere in the estate. I’d hardly call it prison.”
“But not home.”
“No. Do you have any idea what could happen if humans found out about us again? You should be very careful,” he warned, leaning over me.
The distance between us had shrunk.
“Careful how? With the truth? With a lie?” My tone was bland, unfazed. If he wanted to unsettle me, he’d have to do better.
He smelled faintly of cedarwood and something green and metallic, an effect that made my skull buzz.
“With whatever excuse you use,” he said. “Just make it plausible. Make it boring.”
“Boring,” I repeated, swallowing. “Are you that cold?”
He lowered his head until our eyes were level, his gaze cutting down my body in silence. Unhurried, daring me not to move.
“Aren’t you a brave little human?” he drawled, voice thick with mockery.
Heat climbed my neck. I forced my expression still, knowing this was all a jest to him. The corner of his mouth curved into a vile grin.
“You have until tomorrow to decide what to tell your family,” he said, straightening, his tone back to command. “Finnegan leaves in the afternoon.”
He didn’t wait for a response. I shut the door and leaned back against the solid wood, pressing my fingers to my temples.
If he were sending Finnegan tomorrow, my time was up. I had to leave tonight.
◆◆◆
The doorknob turned soundlessly as I slipped out five minutes before the shift change.
My heart pounded, every beat echoing in my chest. I wore leather pants, a thick sweater, and my boots, with the burgundy cloak Finnegan had given me, the warmest thing I had, and it concealed my entire body.
I moved into the empty, dimly lit hallway, stepping carefully on the rugs.
The small satchel the room had provided hung across my torso, packed with what I deemed essential: two hunting daggers I had no idea how to use, the Velvetshades I’d already rubbed over every possible inch of me, a can of pepper spray—absurd, perhaps, but better than nothing—and a lantern.
When I reached the main staircase, a few castle workers were crossing the ground floor. I flattened myself against the wall, staying hidden in the hallway’s shadows.
Only a few more minutes until the guard shift ended—my one chance to slip through unnoticed.
They moved on, and I looked around. No one.
Descending the stairs, I reached the grand foyer. I pressed myself against the wall, crouching behind a wooden side table near the coat hangers, my cloak blending in perfectly as if it were just another garment in the shadows.
The clock struck ten.
My stomach knotted as the guards entered through the main door, chatting wearily and looking worn out from their shifts.
As they passed, I crept through the door, sticking close to the walls, my fingers brushing the cold stone.
For a brief, precious moment, the courtyard was nearly deserted, watched only by two mages awaiting the new shift.
From their stance, it was clear they had a better view of the opposite entrance than of the tunnel.
As long as I stayed within the shadows, I would be hard to notice.
I timed my movements carefully, slipping forward whenever their backs were turned, stepping into the footprints already imprinted in the snow.
I have to make it today.
Voices drifted from the entrance. My heart hammered in my chest, and I quickened my pace. The last stretch of wall was exposed, clearly visible to the two mages. My eyes flicked to them and to the windows above. No faces peered down; no one watched the tunnel.
The voices grew louder.
I ran, reaching the tunnel just as the next shift of battle mages appeared in the courtyard.
That was the easy part.
I turned toward the dark tunnel, not daring to turn on my lantern yet. Moonlight shimmered at the archway, where the long stairway descended toward the forest, looming ominous and still, like a treacherous illusion. I scanned the darkness for any sign of life.
Swallowing hard, I reached the final step, the stone pathway stretching out before me, visible under the thin layer of snow. The same path I had come from when Reagan had led me to the castle. All I had to do was follow it.
After a quick, steadying breath, I stepped into the forest.