We moved silently through the hallway, Brigida leading me through servants’ passages I hadn’t known existed. Narrow corridors hidden behind tapestries, cramped staircases that spiraled between the castle’s public faces. The smell of tallow candles and overcooked cabbage filled these secret spaces. They were so different from the perfumed air of the royal apartments.
At one point, we flattened ourselves against a wall as a group of kitchen maids passed, laughing about some castle gossip. My heart hammered so loudly I was certain they would hear it, but they continued on, oblivious to our presence in the shadows.
“Almost there,” Brigida whispered as we descended a final set of stairs that opened onto a small courtyard. “The stables are just across. Wait until I tell you it’s clear.”
She slipped out first, her gray dress and weathered appearance raising no alarms among the few servants crossing between buildings. I watched her make her way to the stable entrance, exchange words with someone inside, then gesture casually back toward me.
“Now,” she mouthed.
I pulled my hood lower and crossed the courtyard with my head down, trying to mimic the hurried, purposeful walk of a servant sent on an errand. No one stopped me. No one even looked at me. Amazing how invisible you became when wearing the right clothes, keeping your head low, your eyes averted.
The stable’s dimness enveloped me, the familiar scent of hay and horse sweat surprisingly comforting after weeks of cloying perfumes. Brigida stood beside a stall housing a bay mare, already saddled and bridled.
“Cook’s nephew works here,” she explained, checking the girth strap with practiced hands. “Owed me a hefty favor. This one’s gentle but fast. Been exercised today, so no one will miss her until morning.”
I stared at the mare, then at Brigida, overwhelmed by the extent of her planning. “You risked so much...”
“Pfft.” She waved away my gratitude, but I caught the shine in her eyes before she blinked it away. “Listen carefully. Take the west gate out of the city. Smaller, less guarded. The tournament has most of the men occupied. Once you’re clear, head north for a few miles, then cut east toward the river. Follow it to Eldagh.”
So even she knew of Eldagh. A land with criminals, but where women could live on their own and own their homes.
She pressed a small leather purse into my hand. The weight of coins clinked inside. “It’s not much,” she said gruffly. “Been saving it for my granddaughter’s wedding. She’ll understand.”
“I could never,” I breathed out and pushed it back her way. “Brigida, my path to where I’m needed is less than two days ride. I’ll make it there with what you’ve packed for me already. Save your coin, like you’ve just saved me.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears then. They spilled hot down my cheeks as I threw my arms around Brigida’s sturdy frame, burying my face in her shoulder. She stiffened for a momentbefore her arms came up to return the embrace, patting my back awkwardly.
“None of that, now,” she murmured, her voice gruff with emotion. “You need to go. They’ll be missing you soon enough.”
I pulled back, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. “Thank you,” I whispered, the words pitifully inadequate for what she’d done. “If there’s ever a way I can repay you—”
“Live,” she said simply. “That’s payment enough.”
With her help, I mounted the mare, settling into the saddle with the ease of someone raised in a village where horses were as common as chickens. The bundle Brigida had packed was secured behind me, the cloak arranged to hide my face without impeding my vision.
“Godspeed,” Brigida said, stepping back as I gathered the reins.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat, then nudged the mare forward. We emerged from the stable at a walk, just another servant on an errand, nothing to draw attention. The western edge of the castle grounds was quieter, the roar of the tournament crowd a distant murmur beside us.
My ride along their competition made me worry, but I kept riding. Even when my eyes were drawn to Alain’s tent where he’d rest between events, I didn’t stop. No, I couldn’t. So I rode on, leaving this evil city behind.
The western gate appeared ahead, manned by only two guards who looked bored and hot in the afternoon sun. I kept my head down as I approached, mumbling something about a message for a merchant in the lower town when they asked my business. They waved me through without really looking, more interested in their conversation about some tavern wench than in yet another servant on royal business. Plus, I was leaving the city, not entering.
Once clear of the gate, I resisted the urge to immediately spur the mare into a gallop. That would draw attention. Instead, I maintained a sedate pace until the city walls fell away behind me, until the road curved into a stand of trees that would hide me from view.
Only then did I give the mare her head, feeling the surge of power as she leapt forward, eager to run after being confined to the royal stables. The wind tore my hood back, whipping my hair free, but I didn’t care. I was out. Free. Alive.
Yet as the distance between me and the white castle grew, a strange ache bloomed in my chest. I told myself it was just relief, just the crash after fear’s surge. But beneath that lie lay a truth I wasn’t ready to face. Part of me had begun to care for Alain despite everything. Despite his possessiveness, his anger, and his declaration that I belonged to him.
I’d seen other sides of him too. The man who read to me through fever dreams. Who held my hair back when poison wracked my body. Who looked at me sometimes as if I were the answer to a question he’d been asking his entire life.
Now I would never know if he had been part of this plot to hunt me like an animal. Never know if he would have stood between me and his father’s judgment, or if his own wounded pride would have let me burn.
The stone in my pocket pulsed with warmth, as if responding to my troubled thoughts. I pressed my hand against it through the fabric, drawing strength from its connection to the forest, to my beasts, to the magic that flowed in my veins.
I had a destination. A purpose. Princes to save and a curse to break. What I felt for Alain—whatever complicated tangle of fear and gratitude and something dangerously close to affection—had to be set aside.
The wind dried the last of my tears as I rode south, toward freedom and the uncertain future that awaited me beyond it.With the spring blooms beginning, I felt renewed with the season. Nature had a purpose in my life, and I felt it now as I kept pressing the mare to run.
