“Erika made it sound like he wasn’t interested in her,” she accuses.
“Can you blame him?”
She smacks me in the face with impressive force before I can even blink. “You will hold your tongue, girl.”
In complete shock, I back away from her, my hand pressed against my sore cheek.
“You had better get back to work immediately,” she screams at me. “You’ve already wasted enough time today.”
Hating myself for cowering, I scurry away as quickly as I can, practically running to the laundry. At least the mindless work will keep me distracted. Just knowing my escape is close will get me through the day—I couldn’t hide my smile if I wanted to.
When I finally collapse onto my bed, it’s half past eleven. I curse under my breath. There is hardly enough time to gather my things before I need to meet the prince. Filled with a sudden burst of energy, I jump up and start moving. Knowing I can only take what I can carry, I fill a small satchel with a few of my most prized possessions. I’m slightly self-conscious about running off with the prince without bathing first, so I splash some tepidwater on my face and try to tame my unruly hair into a low bun. I already ruined my nicest dress doing chores today, so I pull the next least offensive option out of my small wardrobe. I have to admit, this is not how I saw myself getting bound; an elopement was never something I could have imagined. At the very least, I expected to wear a pretty gown and have my father present.
He’s not even your father, a small voice whispers, but does that matter? He has always been there for me, and he was very protective. Though, now that I think of it, sometimes, he’d get a sad and faraway look in his eyes when he looked at me.
Blowing out a breath, I return to my chest of belongings and pull out one more item—the blade I stole from the masked man. I’m not completely sure why I’ve held on to it, but it is a beautiful piece of weaponry, its balance impeccable. I carefully strap it to my thigh underneath my gown, using one of the sheaths I nicked from Father’s small armory. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
The gong of the clock striking midnight chimes distantly through the walls of the manor. I’m running out of time.
With a final glance around the room, I oh-so-quietly open my door, only to be met with the haughty glare of my stepmother.
No. No, no, no.
“Going somewhere?” she sneers.
“I was just going to get some water from the kitchen,” I stammer.
She takes an ominous step closer, eyeing my satchel, and I back away, remembering the sting of her slap.
“You’re a terrible liar, Raelyn. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you truly think no one was listening to your little plan with the prince?”
My heart sinks in my chest. We’d been foolish to speak so plainly with the door wide open. Trying to find my courage, I puff out my chest. “Well, if you’re already aware, then you know there is nothing you can do to stop us.”
A hideous laugh leaves her lips. “That’s where you’re wrong, Raelyn. The prince might not care about your status as a bastard, but the king surely will. He will be more than happy to reward me when I inform him of your little scheme.”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?” Stepmother asks.
“Have you already informed the king of our plan?”
Her lips turn up. “Of course not. I play my cards when they are most advantageous to me.”
Good, so the prince is likely waiting for me already.
I make a mad dash for the door, hoping to skirt past her, until I’m wrenched back by my hair. A scream erupts out of me as she cackles. “Not so fast, girl.”
She’s surprisingly strong, her grip on my hair excruciating. I reach back and claw at the hand holding me, digging my nails in as deep as I can. She grunts and throws me to the floor before examining my handiwork. She winces, and I look down at my fingers smeared with blood. At least I got her good.
“You’ve made a big mistake, Raelyn. I hope you ate a large dinner, because it will be a while before you eat again.”
Her eyes glint in the darkness, and she slams my door shut. The clang of a key turning in the lock echoes through the room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
RAELYN
“No!” I cry. “No, no, no!”
