Maera slipped back into the princess's chamber, her steps quiet but urgent, a scroll clasped tightly in her hand.
"That was the king's guard, My lady," she said, bowing slightly as she extended the sealed parchment.
Elara accepted it, fingers lingering on the red silk knot. She loosened it with a steady breath, though a tremor worked through her hands. The parchment unfurled, revealing inked names, nobles, titles, and alliances.
And the first name that greeted her eyes:
Duke Alaric Vaelmont.
Followed by others:
— Lord Castain Vale
— Marquess Rowan Thorne
— Viscount Edric Hawthorne
— Sir Lucien Ferrowright
— Lord Benedict Graymoor
More Below......
Her stomach twisted.
"So… these are my potential husbands, I suppose," she murmured, trying and failing to hide the hollow ache in her voice.
Maera's expression softened with worry. "What will you do now, My lady?"
Elara inhaled deeply, grounding herself. "Worry not, Maera. This was always inevitable. If I am to rise as Queen, I will require a Prince Consort. I cannot run from duty forever."
Her gaze darkened. "They have underestimated me for far too long."
She tightened the scroll again and handed it back.
"Look into every man on this list. Discreetly. And if you hear of a potential bachelor not named here, bring that to me as well."
Maera nodded firmly, accepting the mission. "I shall begin at once, My lady."
When the door closed, silence wrapped itself around Elara. The food on her table suddenly felt distant, tasteless. This, marriage, alliances, and politics, was not what her mother had wanted for her. And certainly not what Elara dreamed of.
Love.
Her parents' love had been real, bright, gentle, powerful.
But after her mother's death, her father had changed… and Elara quickly learned that love was a luxury royalty rarely afforded.
And now?
These men wanted power, not her. Not the girl behind the crown.
She took a slow sip of tea, mind racing, until something clicked.
A spark.
A dangerous idea.
Elara stood abruptly and stepped into the hallway.
Kael was right outside.
"Ser Kael," she called.
He bowed. "Your Highness."
"I intend to rest. I would find it… uncomfortable to be watched. Allow no one inside except Maera. If anyone inquires of me, inform them that I am exhausted."
Kael's eyes narrowed slightly, too observant for her liking. But he nodded. "As you wish."
Elara returned to her chamber, closing the door softly.
Then, slowly, she smiled.
Time to breathe.
Time to think.
Time to escape.
She went to her wardrobe and pulled out several boxes until she found the last one, hidden, dusty, forbidden.
Inside lay a simple dress: the kind worn by a merchant's daughter.
A soft linen gown dyed a muted plum, with fitted sleeves and a laced bodice, practical, modest, unremarkable. Perfect.
She removed her extravagant royal gown and slipped into the plain dress. No corset, those were for nobility, and she certainly did not need help tying one now.
She wrapped a scarf over her hair, tucked away her identifying features, and pulled on ordinary leather boots.
In seconds, the princess disappeared.
And a commoner emerged.
Elara crossed her garden, passing vines she once tended with her mother, until she reached an old stone arch draped with ivy, innocent to the eye, overlooked for generations.
She pressed her palm against a particular stone, and with a low grinding sound, the arch shifted open, revealing a narrow underground corridor.
A hidden escape. Only the royal bloodline knew.
She slipped inside.
The passage was cold, lit faintly by shafts of dying sunlight threading through cracks. The damp air clung to her skin as she walked the familiar route, a straight tunnel carved centuries ago, used by queens past when danger lurked.
At the end, she pushed upward, lifting the wooden hatch camouflaged beneath fallen leaves.
Fresh air greeted her.
She climbed out into the forest, closed the hatch, brushed leaves over it, and,
A shadow moved.
Her heart lurched. She stumbled back, tripped, and pain sliced across her arm.
Then she looked up.
Kael.
She landed against him, his arms instantly steadying her.
"Ser Kael, by the heavens!" she breathed. "How did you find this place? How did you get here?"
His expression remained maddeningly calm. "As I told Your Highness… to protect you, I must stay close. Your behavior earlier was suspicious, so instead of approaching your room, I came here first."
"That does not answer my question," she snapped, breathing unsteadily. "This land is forbidden. No subject is allowed near it."
"Precisely why it is dangerous for you to use this route," he countered, eyes sharp. "If even one enemy spotted you slipping into the forest alone, you could be killed before a single guard realized you were gone."
There it was again.
That flicker, real concern.
Soft, quiet, unguarded.
A look she had only ever seen from Maera… and her mother.
Elara swallowed. "And what if exiting through the palace gates alerts my enemies even more?"
"You have hidden guards, scouts, and shadow sentinels at the gates," he said. "Here, you have none. If Your Highness insists on escaping… then at least allow me to protect you."
Something fluttered inside her chest.
"You are full of secrets, Ser Kael," she whispered.
He leaned closer, not touching, but unbearably close.
"Secrets keep you alive, Your Highness."
She blinked; suddenly aware she was still in his arms.
He lowered her gently to her feet, his hands warm even through the fabric.
"You must be more careful," he said. "Not everyone who seeks you does so with noble intent."
"Well," she said, forcing confidence as she stepped past him, "is that not why you're here? To protect me? You've repeated it all day, so do so. I am under your protection now; ensure nothing happens to me."
This time, he actually smiled.
"As you command."
Elara walked ahead into the clearing, Kael following silently behind.
They emerged at Moonshade Crossing, a hidden part of the forest where silver birch trees grew so densely that the world beyond was nearly invisible. Only those who knew the precise path could ever slip through unnoticed.
A perfect place for secrets.
And even more perfect for danger.