I walk to the door and ease it open. The corridor is empty. Everyone's asleep or in their own quarters.
I move like a ghost through the castle, back to my chambers. My knives are where I left them, hidden in the wardrobe. I throw on a new dress and curse that I didn’t grab a pair of pants from Benedict’s room. I strap my knives to my body. One at each hip, one at my ankle, one tucked into my boot.
I'm armed. I'm ready. I'm leaving.
The castle is quiet as I make my way toward the main entrance. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure someone will hear it, but the corridors remain empty.
Until they don't.
A guard rounds the corner, and we nearly collide.
"Princess?" He looks confused. "What are you—"
I don't let him finish. The knife is in my hand and then in his throat before he can draw breath to shout. He makes a wet, choking sound and crumples.
I step over his body and keep moving.
Two more guards at the next intersection. They see me, see the blood on my clothes, and reach for their swords.
I'm faster.
The techniques I learned from watching the knights in the training yard come back to me like muscle memory. Dodge, thrust, slash. The first guard goes down with my knife in his kidney. The second manages to draw his sword, but I'm inside his guard, too close for the blade to be effective.
My knife finds the soft spot under his jaw, angling up into his brain.
He drops.
I'm panting now, blood singing in my veins. The burning in my throat is building again, and when the next guard appears—
Fire. Actual fire pours from my mouth, a stream of flame that engulfs him. He screams, a horrible sound, and the smell of burning flesh fills the corridor.
I did that. I made that happen. The fire cuts off as suddenly as it started, and I'm left staring at the charred corpse.
No time. Keep moving. More guards. More bodies. Some I kill with knives, some with fire when the rage peaks high enough. I'm covered in blood again. Mine, theirs, I don't know. I don't care.
Finally, I reach the main entrance. The massive doors are right there, freedom just beyond them.
And standing in front of them is Dr. Stefan. He's in his nightclothes, a robe thrown over them. He must have heard the commotion. His eyes take in my appearance. The blood, the knives, the wild expression on my face.
"Princess," he says quietly.
I raise my knife. "Don't try to stop me."
"I won't." He steps aside, hands raised. "I'm not going to stop you."
I stare at him, not lowering the blade. "Why?"
"Because you deserve to be free." His expression is sad. "Because what they did to you was wrong. Because..." He sighs. "Because I'm a coward who won't fight the system, but I won't stand in the way of someone who will."
I lower the knife slowly. "Thank you. For everything you did for me."
"Be careful," he says. "Stay as close to the middle of the forest as possible. The guards patrol the outer edges, but they're superstitious about going too deep. They think the dragon still lives in there."
"He does," I say.
Dr. Stefan's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't question it. He simply nods and pulls open one of the massive doors.
Cold night air rushes in, carrying the scent of pine and earth and freedom.
