***
AS DARKNESS FELL, Ihad Havah bring me food one last time; who knew how long I’d need my supplies to last. Once finished, I dismissed her. “I’d like to be by myself tonight, you may go. I won’t need you until morning.”
Though extremely offended—it was her turn to stay the night in my outer rooms in case I needed her—she went. That was all that mattered right now.
As soon as she shut the door, I flew to my dressing room. Now that I was finally alone, I needed to hurry.
My travel bag was stuffed to the brim with food and hidden on the back shelf. It was lightweight, but too conspicuous with the intricate designs, beading, and jewels. Ripping them off earlier in the day had felt almost physically painful.
Next, I removed my nightgown and slipped into a shift, followed by a simple gray dress I’d picked out hours ago. It was meant to be embellished with another lace top piece that decorated my arms and shoulders but little else, with a suggestive cut-out over the cleavage. Instead, I pulled on a more modest—and warmer—top piece made of a soft white wool that covered my arms completely and most of my torso. It was difficult to button it in the back without Havah’s help, but I managed, and then added a warm spring cloak to my ensemble as well, just to be safe. Summer was on the horizon, but the nights could be cold. Underneath my skirts I’d pulled on warm leggings and riding boots.
I stepped up to my floor length-mirror, pausing for a moment to study myself. The simple brown cloak over a gray and white dress still looked far too rich for a commoner. I tugged the cape closer together and tied it. My posture screamed nobility. Curving in my shoulders, I lowered my chin, imitating our servants, pulling the hood of the cloak over my head.
It would have to do.
“Why does everything have jewels or lace or trains?” I muttered as I turned and tripped on the excess fabric of the gray dress. Did village women even have trains?
I sighed. Of course they didn’t. Why would they? There was no need for frivolous clothing as a working woman. I swallowed. It wasn’t the thought of working that terrified me, it was the number of unknowns; my mind spun at the uncertainties.
I shook my head. This was for the best—not only for me, but for my father as well. Amir couldn’t very well force my father to marry him. As long as I stayed away, our kingdom would be safe from his clutches.
Turning sideways to see the back of my dress in the mirror, I took the knife I’d used on the bag earlier and carefully cut the train off. Much better. The cloak would cover any jagged edges.
I pulled my long hair back in a braid, winding a strip of leather around the tail.
Focus. No time for fear.
I left the useless gray fabric on the floor of my dressing room. The goal was speed, not secrecy. Once they figured out I was gone, they wouldn’t need to see the evidence of my plan to guess what it was: blend in. Disappear.
Picking up my travel bag, I untied the strings, packing another cloth full of cheese, sliced bread, fruits, and nuts leftover from my last meal.
My eyes caught on the tiara on the dressing table behind me. Back-tracking, I placed my crown deep in the bottom of the bag. A backup in case things didn’t go as planned; another kingdom might be willing to harbor a princess, at least briefly. Returning to the dressing room where I’d discarded the jewels from my travel bag, I stuffed those inside the bag as well, before pulling the drawstring tight. They would fetch a good price, if I couldn’t immediately find work.
The bleakness of my future spread over me like a heavy cloud, weighing me down. I fought the urge to crawl back into bed and go to sleep.This is for Baba,I reminded myself. For my kingdom. And for me. It was better for everyone if I was out of Amir’s reach. With time, Amir would leave, and I could return.
Swallowing hard, I stepped up to the enormous mirror on my wall: the final stage of my plan. The silver spun edges of the mirror twisted with designs, hiding the entrance to the secret tunnels behind it—which were never to be used except in dire circumstances, such as a revolt or a fire. My situation definitely qualified as a crisis.
Behind this mirror, the tunnel led past my father’s room—which wouldn’t help—and also past my mother’s old rooms—which had been sealed off since her death—exiting out of the castle through the stables on one side, and out onto the cliff walls on the other.
Feeling along the edges of the mirror, I searched for the hidden pressure point. It’d been years since I’d even thought of the tunnels, much less used them. My fingers slipped over along the edge, finally landing on the piece of metal that was discretely detached from the rest of the ornamentation. There was a satisfying click.
Picking up a candle, I swung the mirror open. The hinges squeaked in protest and I winced. If I ever returned—no,whenI returned—I would make a point to oil each of the doors—
“Where are you going?” Havah’s voice stopped me, one foot over the threshold, and the other out. My grip on my bag tightened. I didn’t know if I could hurt her. But if she was going to sound the alarm...
With a candle in one hand and my bag in the other, I lifted my chin, holding myself tall, and answered simply, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Havah’s cheeks were pale. “Is this... because of your wedding? I don’t understand, why wouldn’t you talk to your father? He’s always been reasonable before. I’m sure if he knew you were about to—”
“He can’t know!” I interrupted, setting the candle holder down on a nearby table with a bang. “His mind is not his own. And I’m not entirely sure yours is either.” I advanced toward her, a step at a time.
She faltered backward, holding her hands up in protest. “Of course I’m—are you suggesting—he wouldn’t! It’s against the law!”
“What good is a law if there’s no one to make him keep it?” I snapped. But I stopped moving. As far as I could tell from her thoughts, there was no deception in her. “Havah, do you trust me?”
Her lower lip trembled, but she nodded. “I do.” Her thoughts echoed her words. She was telling the truth. For the first time since my Gift had developed, I found myself grateful for it.
“Answer me this: have you spoken with Amir one-on-one—even for a moment—since he came to visit?”
