She shook her head and whispered, “No.”
Could she keep it hidden from me if she didn’t think about it? “That’s not very convincing,” I pushed.
“I swear to you,” Havah dropped to her knees, surprising me. “I won’t tell a soul you’re leaving. I’ll pretend to fall violently ill for the next few days to avoid running into him.”
When I didn’t immediately answer, she glanced up with a fervent light in her eyes. “If you think that leaving Hodafez is necessary, I swear on all of Jinn that I will help you.” I let a beat pass, listening. Her eyes squinted in confusion but she waited with me. Only when I felt certain she was telling the truth did I answer.
“Itisnecessary,” I repeated what I’d told myself earlier. Stepping forward, I reached down and pulled her to her feet, until we were eye to eye, and made my own vow: “I won’t let him have our kingdom.”
“We can’t let him haveyoueither,” Havah added. “It occurred to me that he’s at least twice your age!”
A smile touched my lips. “That too.” I grasped her arms and squeezed. “Thank you.”
She squeezed back and bowed her head. I shouldn’t have been so harsh on her. Everyone had jealous thoughts. But in this moment, she was loyal and true.
I turned back to the mirror, but Havah caught my arm. “You can’t go that way,” she said. “King Amir’s men are everywhere.”
“How do you know where the tunnels lead?” I asked, pulling out of her grip. “Only the royal family is supposed to—you shouldn’t know about them at all.”
Havah groveled under my scowl. “I... my mother told me... and her mother before her...”
Brows raised, I heard her regretting this revelation, worrying that I might remove her from her position as a lady’s maid or have her punished. I placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s at least see for ourselves,” I said in a kinder tone. After all, I couldn’t leave her behind. She could still change her mind about keeping my secret.
Gesturing to my bedroom door, I added, “Bar the door before we go.” Something I kicked myself for not doing earlier.
When she returned, we each took a candle and stepped inside the tunnel, pulling the mirror closed behind us.
There were torches along the walls at steady intervals, but I ignored them. The candle was enough. There wasn’t time to waste.
Winding around rooms, we descended first one staircase to the ground floor, then another to street level. We closed in on the stable’s secret entrance. There was no peep hole, no way to see the other side without cracking open the stone door.
Nerves strung tight, I pressed the latch and caught the door before it swung wide. Loud, drunken voices sang out from one of the nearby stalls. They were either playing a game, drinking, or playing a drinking game.
I pushed on the stone until the latch clicked shut, hoping no one heard. “You were right,” I whispered to Havah. “Let’s try the seaside exit.”
I’d wanted my horse, for the fastest departure, but on foot would still work, if we hurried. The night was waning.
We retraced our steps to the ground floor of the castle, then the second, entering a third, smaller tunnel that narrowed until my shoulders nearly touched both walls. It exited at the uppermost part of the cliffs, only a stone’s throw from the watch towers above.
Remembering the guards stationed there, I gave Havah my candle and motioned for her to back up. I felt my way up to the stone door. The latch took forever to find in the dark. Before I opened it, I pressed a finger to my lips to remind Havah of the guards. She nodded, staying put in the narrow passageway. It was unlikely they’d hear us with the waves crashing against the cliffs. Far more likely they’d spot our silhouettes scurrying down the mountainside.
Pulling the door inward, I leaned out, searching for the watch tower. When one of the guards turned to look down at the cliffs, I ducked back inside. Why did the moon have to shine so bright tonight?
I couldn’t risk this exit either.
Hissing in frustration, I pushed the heavy stone door shut once more, returning to Havah. She didn’t say a word until we’d traversed the long tunnels back to my bedchamber.
My candle was nearly burnt out. As we’d walked, I’d struggled to think of another escape route. But we’d been in the tunnels too long. There was only one option left.
I set my candle on a nearby table, before facing Havah. “You must never tell anyone of the tunnels,” I began. “And even more importantly, don’t tell my father what I’m about to do.”
She followed me over to my bed, where I proceeded to remove the sheets and blankets.
“Tie these together,” I said. “Two knots. Make sure nothing will pull them apart.”
Nodding, she obeyed. Minutes creeped by as we created a rope. I rubbed my eyes, which burned. Morning couldn’t be far off now. I fought the urge to give up.
At some point, Havah must’ve pieced together my plan, but she didn’t say a word, only helped me finish the rope.
