Page 103 of Damsel in Disguise

I bite back and focus on the movement without looking down.

Grip. Lower. Step. Breathe. Repeat.

My arms begin to burn, the strain creeping in slowly but steadily as I keep moving. Can’t do this anymore. I almost cry and give up.

Third floor.

Still manageable.

The courtyard remains empty—no guards in sight yet.

Good. I keep going.

Second floor.

The fabric shifts slightly under my weight, a subtle give that sends a sharp warning through my nervous system. My fingers tighten, adjusting my grip.

I ignore it. Can’t afford to stop now.

My arms begin to ache more from stretching my fingers to my shoulder blades, muscles straining and trembling faintly from the sustained effort.

I swallow it down, grunting softly and pushing through, forcing my body to keep up with my mind. Almost there.

Almost—the fabric jerks and my heart stutters.

A thread snaps somewhere above. I look up. The knot is loosening. SHIT.

I’m too high to jump clean. Too low to climb back.

So I move faster from internal panic. My movement is now too sloppy and hurried for the loosening knot to hold me anymore.

On top of that, my grip slips slightly as I try to rush down, friction burning hotter against my palm. Feet scramble against the wall, trying to find balance.

Another tear. Louder this time.

Panic spikes in the name of adrenaline.

That's when I experience a freefall. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for a severe impact, but it ends just as soon as it began.

The fall is surprisingly shorter, yet it still hits hard.

My body slams into the ground with a force that knocks the air clean out of my lungs. Pain explodes up my side, especially on the healing shoulder, disorienting my mind.

The loosened length of the curtain whips down after me, tangling and collapsing over my body. Heavy fabric spills across my torso and legs like a suffocating shroud, swallowing me into the shadows.

A strangled grunt tears from my throat while I roll instinctively on the other side, but it still aches so badly.

Fuck.

For a second, I can’t breathe. I just recovered from a serious bike accident for fucks sake.

The timer sets off softly amidst the tranquility, startling me. My whole body freezes in time.

With that, I hear distant footsteps. The guards are approaching.

My eyes snap open, a new dose of adrenaline flooding through my veins, overriding the pain. I push off the curtains gathering over me and force myself up, legs shaky but functional.

There’s no time for hesitation. I quickly turn off the timer, gather the curtain in haste, and throw it behind a nearby bush.