The night swallowed them whole. Darian stumbled after Serenya as she guided him through Valebright's crooked alleys, her movements swift, practiced. She did not look back to see if he followed—she simply expected him to.
"Keep low," she whispered. "And quiet."
Her cloak blended with the dark, but her confidence burned brighter than any torch. Darian tried to mimic her steps, though his boots scraped against the cobblestones, betraying his nerves. Every shadow seemed a soldier's blade, every creak of wood a signal of discovery.
At last they slipped behind a row of shuttered shops. Serenya crouched near a cellar door, listening to the night. Darian leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath.
"You move like a mule dragging a cart," she muttered. "If you can't walk without sounding like thunder, we won't last an hour."
"I never asked to be here," Darian snapped before he could stop himself. His voice came out louder than intended, and he winced. "I—look, I didn't ask for this letter. Sir Rowan gave it to me. That's all."
Her eyes flicked to him, sharp as drawn steel. "And yet you kept it."
Darian's mouth went dry. She wasn't wrong. He could have thrown it aside, let the soldiers find it. But something in Rowan's dying gaze had shackled him to the burden.
Serenya turned back to the cellar door and pried it open. "Come. Before your conscience gets us both killed."
---
The passage beneath the shops was narrow and damp, a forgotten storage tunnel reeking of mildew. Darian ducked low, his shoulders brushing against the walls. Serenya moved ahead, her small lantern casting a circle of dim light.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"Out," she answered curtly.
"And then?"
Her steps faltered for the briefest moment. "That depends on what Rowan entrusted to you."
Darian clutched the letter through his tunic. "You mean this?"
"Yes." Her tone was clipped. "Do not take it out. Not here. Eyes and ears cling to every crack in this city."
They continued in silence. The weight of the letter seemed heavier with every step, as though the parchment itself resisted leaving Valebright.
When they emerged from the tunnel, the city walls loomed ahead—high stone ramparts patrolled by soldiers with torches. Serenya crouched in the shadows, studying the patterns of their movements.
"This is madness," Darian whispered. "There's no way through."
"There's always a way," she said. "But it requires timing… and courage."
He swallowed hard. Two things he lacked in abundance.
---
A horn sounded in the distance, sharp and urgent. The patrols stiffened, shouting orders across the battlements. More torches lit up the wall, turning the night into a cage of fire.
"They've found Rowan's body," Serenya murmured. "We must move now."
She darted forward, swift and fearless. Darian hesitated only a second before scrambling after her, his heart hammering in his chest. They kept to the shadows, weaving between abandoned carts and barrels.
At the base of the wall, Serenya produced a length of rope, tied with knots for climbing. Darian gawked at her.
"You… you carry rope with you?"
"Do you always ask foolish questions?" she shot back. "Climb."
He looked up at the looming wall, its stones slick with moss. His stomach churned. "I've never—"
"Climb," she repeated, her voice leaving no room for argument.
With trembling hands, Darian gripped the rope and began. His arms burned, his legs shook, but fear drove him upward. Halfway to the top, a torch flared below.
"Who's there?" a soldier barked.
Darian froze. The rope swayed beneath him. His fingers slipped on the damp fibers.
Then Serenya's voice came from below, calm but commanding. "Don't stop. Move."
He gritted his teeth and forced himself upward. Arrows clattered against the stones, one slicing through his sleeve. He gasped but kept climbing. At last his hand reached the top, clutching the cold stone. Serenya was right behind him, moving with the grace of a shadow.
Together they dropped down the far side, landing hard in the tall grass outside the walls. The night stretched vast and endless before them, the open road waiting.
Darian lay there, chest heaving, staring up at the stars. He couldn't believe he was still alive.
Serenya pulled him to his feet. "Don't rest yet. They'll be after us."
He nodded weakly, though every part of him screamed for sleep.
As they moved into the dark countryside, Darian finally found the courage to ask, "Why are you doing this? You're… you're the princess. Why risk yourself out here?"
Serenya's gaze stayed fixed ahead. "Because if Rowan's letter is what I think it is, then the fate of this kingdom rests on it. And because titles mean nothing if my people burn."
Darian said nothing. For the first time, he realized she wasn't just bold—she was carrying a burden as heavy as his own. Perhaps heavier.
And so, beneath the stars, the stable boy and the hidden princess disappeared into the night, bound together by a letter sealed in blood.