Damien nodded, and the shield of blackness dissolved, abruptly exposing them to the jostling crowd. Luna, caught off guard, stumbled as she struggled to regain her footing. At least Clyde was mindful of his sword and didn’t nick her. Hastily, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, pressing her back securely against his chest. “No more arguing. I will release you, long enough for you to climb onto this horse, but if you try and run, I will harm you for your own good. You understand?”
Her mind clouded with fear, unable to grasp what was happening. Why would Clyde threaten her? He was her guard; he was supposed to be keeping her safe. She gulped—a knotforming in her stomach.
Slowly, she nodded, and Clyde lowered his blade. Keeping it at her side, its sharp edge cut the fabric of her dress as she walked. Alarmed, she looked up at Clyde, but he didn’t seem to care as he ushered her towards the horse.
Damien stood perfectly still the entire time, black eyes following their movement. Luna wasn’t sure he even blinked.
Clyde put a foot in the stirrup and tightly gripped Luna’s waist, forcing her body to be snug against him as he hauled her up with him on top of the horse. She ended up in his lap, sitting sideways; one of his arms was around her to hold her steady, the other to keep his sword threateningly close. He leaned forward and whispered against her ear, his voice so calm it felt anything but reassuring. “Grab the saddle horn for balance. We don’t need to steer . . . the horse knows its way home.”
Luna did as he instructed and Clyde kicked at the horse’s side. It began to trot towards the palace, leaving the crowd, chaos, and unicorns behind.
As soon as they reached the city limits, Clyde yelled for guards to sound the alarms.
The kingdom bells rang out, and the ground thrummed with the beating of horses’ hooves as knights flooded every street. The king’s army, Luna surmised.
She prayed to the skies above that Damien and the other unicorns had already fled.
Clyde shifted his weight. The cold steel of the sword’s blade rested against her thigh. He must have noticed her stiffening because he moved it away.
When they finally arrived at the palace, he did not take her home. Instead, he led her down a dimly lit hallway through the barracks.
Luna’s footsteps faltered slightly, unease tightening her chest. “Where are you taking me?”
He shook his head, his dark blond hair dancing in front of his eyes. “To the dungeons,” he answered, his voice void of all emotion. “It’s protocol for if something happened to Nina.”
Luna stopped dead. “I’m not going there.”
“I’m afraid you don’t really have a choice,” he said, gesturing towards his sword.
She scowled. “Why am I part of such protocol?”
“Just get walking.”
She eyed him up and down. How far could she get if she tried to run? Considering she’d barely run a day in her life, probably not far. Her glare was the only weapon she had as he led her down a winding set of creaky stairs.
Each step took them deeper into the bowels of the castle, where the light dimmed and the musty stench of damp stone and old torch smoke grew heavier. Water dripped in the distance, the sound echoing off the cold, hard walls.
Eventually, Clyde stopped in front of a large barred door; it was made of heavy iron, its surface pocked with rust and the scars of many years. The dim torchlight harshly illuminated his face, revealing a stern resolve Luna had never seen before. In that moment, she recognized him not as the companion she once knew, but as a devoted servant of the king.
This realization chilled her more than the dungeon’s dampness.
He opened the door, revealing a small, empty room with no bed, just hard stone floor and walls covered in a strange white matter. Every fibre of Luna’s being screamed at her to flee, but Clyde jerked his chin, motioning for her to enter, his hand hovering above his sheath. Would he hurt her if she tried to make a break for it? She didn’t know, and she didn’t want to find out. Not seeing any other choice, she obeyed.
The door slammed behind her, and the metal turned and clicked, confirming he locked it. A moment later, his footsteps echo down the hall, leaving her in utter silence.
She collapsed on the ice-cold ground, her dress a pile of fabric around her. Tears welled up, brimming with anguish before spilling over, tracing hot, stinging paths down her cheeks. Her mind was both empty and racing as she tried to understand all of what had happened.
“How could I have been so blind?”
The pain was a tangible force, crushing her chest, making every breath she drew a struggle. A deep ache spread through her limbs, and she clenched the fabric of her skirts, twisting it. Pain prickled at her fingertips,each pulse a reminder of how little she meant to someone who had been the very moon of her sky.
The rough texture of something in her hand gave her pause—somehow the leaf Damien had given her was still in her palm; she hadn’t realized she’d been holding it this entire time.
A flicker of hope rose within her. Gently, she smoothed out the fabric of her skirt and focused on the leaf. Would this take her to Damien? Maybe all of this had just been fate working its magic. She traced veins of the leaf, running her fingers over its edges. This was her chance at a new beginning. With Damien, her life wouldn’t be one of normality, but at least she wouldn’t be in the dungeons. Without hesitation, she tore the leaf in half.
But nothing happened.
No darkness. No welcoming shadows. Nothing at all.
