Soren ducked her head, a small spark lighting in her belly. It was just the faintest hint of a feeling, something less than subservient. Beneath the soft, practiced smiles and quiet words, Soren kept a beast at bay. It roared at the iron shackle on her ankle and sniffed the air at Princess Cion’s words.
Yes…it hissed, urging her to take the opportunity,anyopportunity to escape and run free.
She hushed it like it was an obstinate child.
“If that is all, my princess,” Soren said. “You should try to sleep, if only for a few hours. Dawn will be breaking soon.”
Cion glanced outside. The faintest hints of light stained the horizon, just barely peeking between rocky slopes and jagged mountain sides.
“Post the letter,” Cion said, her eyes still on the landscape beyond. “Send it off with one of the military ravens before anyone wakes to ask questions.”
“Yes, my princess. Do…try to rest.”
Princess Cion glanced back at her, and for a moment, her eyes narrowed, as if she was seeing something Soren couldn’t. Standing there in her faded nightdress and fraying slippers, she bowed her head, hiding the beast beneath her skin. She hidher nature well, despite the odd look the king had cast in her direction the other day. She hoped it was just a coincidence.
Still, as she left the bedchamber, sealed letter in hand, there was a strange flutter in her chest. It was an intrinsic feeling telling her some change was on the horizon.
She ignored the primal warning bells and hurried to the aviary.
Soren watched the enormous raven take flight, its feathers blue-black in the infancy of morning. At the top of the palace where the aviary lay, she swore she was on top of the world. Given that D’anna sat nestled among some of the highest peaks in Aren, she supposed the thought wasn’t entirely far off from truth.
When she had first been brought to the capital as a child, many of those with her had become sick from the altitude change. She had merely felt dizzy with a terrified sore of awe. Several of the balconies in the palace jutted over cliffs that fell hundreds of feet. She had no idea how the building had been constructed. With the aid of magic, if she was a betting woman.
But she was not. In fact, she could not afford to gamble away any chances. Her life depended on it, and if she wanted to ever have any chance of finding Kelshie or Thurn…
She knew in her heart her little brother was likely gone. He had been far too young to be of any use to Aren when they were all taken, and she had heard such horrible stories about what became of Misean babies.
But perhaps Kelshie was in one of the war camps. Maybe, with Princess Cion, Soren could find her. It was foolish to expect such a thing, but it was the first thread of hope she’d felt in nearly a decade and couldn’t bring herself to let go of it just yet.
And then, there was the letter she had just sent off into the crisp morning.
The princess was committing treason by attempting to undermine her father in any way. Soren knew her rebellion was for entirely selfish reasons, all of them having to do with the scribe’s daughter. Still, it gave her hope that perhaps Mise’s princess could at least be spared in the mess sure to follow Meesling’s betrayal.
For just a few more moments, she gazed at the horizon as the raven became a speck. Once it was gone from sight, she finally left the aviary behind, hurrying across the vast tension bridge connecting the main residential wing and the rest of the palace. It swung slightly with each step, and she ignored the sharp bite of unease in her stomach at the movement. She was afraid of the height, just as she was afraid of being caught today. Many men claimed to be fearless, but it was usually a falsehood. Soren had learned mastering fear was the way to truly conquer it, not by pushing it away or denying it.
It was why, as she rounded the corner off the bridge and saw a guard posted there, she did not freeze or panic. She simply kept walking, her body curved in the expected submissive stance of a servant or slave.
“You.” The guard’s voice was gruff and stiff with command.
She turned slowly, her eyes downcast. “Good morning, sir.”
“What were you doing on the bridge?”
It only took her a few seconds to think of a story, half-truth, half-lie. “I was delivering a letter, sir.”
“To whom? Only certain people are allowed in the aviary at this hour.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir, I know. I was delivering it to Sir Gellings’ quarters nearby. The princess will be unable to attend her morning sparring session due to poor sleep.”
The guard eyed her. “I see. You did not go into his chambers like this, did you? It would be unseemly.”
She bit back a smile. As if she would want anything to do with Sir Gellings, of all people. Still, she kept her face neutral as she replied, “No, of course not, sir. One of the other servants in that wing promised to give it to him upon his waking.”
The guard sighed heavily, looking around. “Alright then. Hurry back to your quarters and dress. I am sure you will be needed soon.”
Soren bowed her head and hurried away, her heart beating hard and fast. It had been a close call, and the princess would be unhappy about having to skip her lesson, despite her true lack of sleep. But she had not been caught, not truly, and that was all that mattered, for more than her sake.
As she walked quickly back to the room she shared with Mona, she avoided the main halls and stairways where she knew some of the staff would already be readying for the royals to wake. When she finally stepped back into the cramped quarters, Mona was awake, washing her face, a basin of water below her.
