Uriel sprinted through the midnight mountain briars, shielding the sealed military orders while pine needles scored her cheeks.
Clutched tightly against her ribs was a sealed cylinder containing Duke Flint's supreme military movement orders.
Behind her, six elite household retainers crashed through the underbrush, their hunting hounds baying in relentless pursuit.
"Stop running, Lady Uriel!" Captain Orick bellowed through the trees, his voice echoing across the dark gully.
"You cannot escape the family perimeter! Surrender the deployment scrolls and return to your chambers!"
Uriel did not slow her pace for a fraction of a second, leaping over a fallen spruce trunk with desperate agility.
Her silk slippers were shredded to ribbons, and her bare feet bled across the jagged shale stones of the creek bed.
For three days, she lived locked inside the high tower, listening to her uncles negotiate her marriage to Lord Rovan Dask.
