The Freefolk were on the brink of freedom. It should’ve been a moment of triumph, a glimmer of hope amid all the despair, but Katell couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened, expecting betrayal. Soon, she was sure Dorias would reveal the ruse—a cold laugh, a flash of steel, the strike of a trap.
“It’s time.” Dorias glanced at her, expression unreadable. Then he barked, “Open the gates!”
The shrill sound of the gate swinging wide pierced the air. The Freefolk, their horses restless and laden with supplies, headed for the gate. Tarxi kept his distance, lips pressed into a thin line. His dark eyes burned with anger, but he didn’t say a word. Nearby, Romilda leaned against the dais, arms crossed and lips curling into a sneer.
Katell’s heart raced as she pressed closer to Leywani, her sword in hand. She couldn’t let her guard down—not yet. Dorias’ presence loomed beside her, calm yet threatening, as if he, too, didn’t trust her to keep her word.
Once the Freefolk neared the gate, they stalled, all eyes turning to Scylas. Their leader, freshly healed but still pale, stood with the reins of a chestnut horse in his hand. His jaw was set, posture rigid, but something guarded flickered in his eyes when he looked at Katell.
She sheathed her sword and strode towards him. “Go,” she urged in their Freefolk tongue. “Please, Scylas. Go.”
He hesitated, glancing at the soldiers hemming them in before meeting her gaze again. “What about you? They’ll kill you. You can’t fight them all—I saw what they were capable of.”
The irony wasn’t lost on her—she knew all too well what the Rasennans were capable of. For too long, she’d tried to justify their need for war to maintain peace, but it had all been a lie.
She stepped closer and cupped his face in her hands, his concern stirring something buried deep inside her. “Don’t worry about me,” she murmured. “I’ll find a way to survive. I alwaysdo. You—” She paused, her throat tightening. “You can return to the Freefolk Lands and rebuild.”
He shook his head. “I can’t protect them.”
“Yes, you can,” she insisted, offering him a weak smile. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. When you saw I was Gifted, you didn’t blink an eye. You offered to marry me, to save me?—”
“I betrayed you.” The words came out in a raw whisper. “I loved you, and yet I let my grief blind me. I pushed you away when I should’ve protected you.” His voice cracked, and his hands came up to cover hers. “One of the elders survived the fire and told us the truth after you left. Told us what my grandfather had done.” He bowed his head until their foreheads touched. “I’m sorry, Kat. I’m so sorry.”
She met his gaze, her own tears threatening to spill. “I forgave you. The moment you exiled us, I forgave you. But now you have to forgive yourself and do what needs to be done.”
“But—”
“As long as I know you’re safe, I’ll endure whatever they do to me. Please, Scylas. Take them home and live.”
“Kat—”
“Please,” she begged, her composure finally breaking as hot tears streaked down her face. “They already have Ley. I can’t lose you, too.”
Anguish twisted his features. Then, with a shuddering breath, he relented and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead—both a promise and a farewell.
When he pulled away, his eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he said nothing more. She helped him mount his horse, and he trotted towards the gates. Behind him, the column of Freefolk riders followed, their horses’ hooves kicking up clouds of dust.
At the rear of the line, Arnza rode with an unconscious Pinaria draped across his horse’s shoulders.
Dorias came to stand beside her. “Arnza will ride with them back to the Freefolk Lands.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “He and Pinaria will see to their safety on the journey.”
Katell’s jaw tightened, hands clenching into fists at her sides. Pinaria would be horrified when she woke and realised what had happened. Still… if Arnza leaving meant Pinaria remained out of Dorias’ reach, it was a better outcome than she’d dared hope.
Her attention turned to Arnza, his shoulders hunched under the weight of guilt. Despite the sting of his betrayal, she gave him a curt nod. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, he dipped his head before urging his horse to follow the retreating column.
“Close the gates!” Dorias barked.
Soldiers moved to obey, and the heavy wooden structure groaned in answer.
Katell’s gaze swept over the courtyard teeming with soldiers. Dozens of them, though none had been sent to follow the Freefolk. Yet.
Without hesitation, she reached for the magic she’d restrained moments earlier. A surge of power erupted within her, and black smoke burst from the ground like a living shadow, snaking and coiling towards the gates.
The soldiers jumped back, shouts of alarm rippling through their ranks. The smoke writhed, winding its way up the wooden palisade, sealing the gates shut.
“What are you doing?” Dorias snapped.
Black smoke swirled around Katell in restless tendrils. “Everyone stays here until I say so.”
