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She stands in the far shadows of the willow tree, eyes gleaming at me from the darkness.
“The prince,” I explain, my tone hushed, and wave my hand. “He was awake for some time.”
The implications hang in the air. We didn’t even attend the Hall for dinner. Meals had to be brought to his chambers, he had me so many times, and then he just held me as I wept. It’s the first time since I’ve known him that he’s been caring towards me—physically cared and comforted me.
And though it threatens to confuse me, I stick to my decision.
I must leave this place.
For the better of my child.
The iilra slips out of the shadows barely, half-in half-out. “We leave this Quiet.”
My heart sinks to my watery gut. Fear creeps into me like ice-spiders running free through my veins.
“Your resolve must be firm.”
Uneasily, I nod—as if just to prove her doubts of me. I wring my hands together at my front, my eyes cutting about for any signs of Elden.
I ask, “How long do I have?”
“One hour. I will wait.”
“And then what?” I probe, fingernails cutting into my hands. “You’ll take me to the light lands?”
“No. But we will get you close. As close as we can. You are safe with us, evate,” she adds as if to reassure me. “Your mateship with the prince means you cannot be harmed. We simply want to remove you—and that—” she cuts her gaze down to my protruding belly “—from these lands to allow the prince to reach his full potential. You understand.”
I do. So I nod faintly, sadness firming my face.
With such a short time to pack what I need and rush back down to the bottom of the large gardens, I must accept that I have already said my goodbyes—to the prince, to Hilda, to Sira (though she still doesn’t speak to me, even more so now that I’ve had Terry freed).
So I leave the iilra in the concealment of the willow tree. I rush back to the castle with urgency in my step as I pass the guards. Their eyes follow me all the way up the stairs, but they think I’m a simple pregnant and silly kinta, the favoured apple of the prince’s eyes, and don’t worry much about what I’m doing.
Probably going for a swim in the lake, they must think.
The challenge comes after I pack some things (food that I wrap in parchment, some ribbon bandages in case I get injured, a waterskin, and the pieces for a candle lantern) into a small bag that I can roll under my dress before I throw on one of the prince’s coats. Now, I must use the slave’s corridors to get back to the gardens. I can’t walk like this through the open, not even with the prince out cold in his bedchambers.
And so I sneak through the dark, abandoned corridors that are in dire need of refurbishment. It’s a maze back here, winding around the walls of the castle, dipping between floors, spiralling down the stone staircases—and then I stagger back before I can slam right into the man coming up the steps.
I freeze, my heart locked in my throat.
The butler’s blank eyes stare right back at me for a beat before the short lashes slowly start to lower and he narrows his eyes at me.
“Wait—” I start, but I don’t get the chance to even finish my plea.
The butler slams me into the stone wall in a rush to pass me, his boots clacking harshly against the stone steps. He’s already around the bend by the time I can twist around to shout after him.
He’s gone to tell on me.
I have no seconds to spare.
I scramble down the rest of the steps, fast enough that I put myself at risk of falling any moment, I put my child at risk—but I have to get out of here now.
Who knows what Daein will do when he finds out I’ve run off?
No, I can’t stick around to find out.
Coat billowing behind me, I race out of the back archway and down the dirt path to the lake. I don’t even look over my shoulder as I cut off at my usual spot and spear ahead for the vineyard. Beyond there, I find the willow tree.
