AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The sweet smell of flowers drifted through open windows and the large public balcony at the end of the corridor.
I strode on, hood up, head down, careful not to be seen. It was still late—the night had dragged on for an eternity. The open windows revealed dawn’s red ribbons creeping along the horizon. Was it too early to visit Draven? His note hadn’t specified a time. He’d probably be asleep. And perhaps he wouldn’t mind if I eased between the sheets alongside him, prying him with questions as I pried him in other ways too.
I approached the farthest room and the last door beside the balcony—Draven’s, according to Ellyn. His body would be willing, and with him under me, he’d tell me anything. They always did.
Voices mumbled from behind the door. He had company, I’d have to wait. Or return later. Hurrying on, I ventured outside onto the balcony and leaned against the rail. Vast gardens spread below, dotted with lamplights. Just the rumble of the sea and fleeting early morning birdsong disturbed the quiet. There were no birds where I came from, no flowers either.
A new day broke over the horizon, so full of hope and potential. A dream yet unlived. I wasn’t as free as people assumed, but in quiet moments like these, I sometimes had a fleeting taste of it.
A heavythumpshuddered through the floor.
The voices in Draven’s room fell silent.
Instincts tingled at the back of my neck. The same instincts I’d been too distracted to notice last night, and paid the price.
Perhaps Draven had found himself another willing cock to suck, but if I walked away, and whatever was going on behind that door was something else, something insidious, then I’d have missed my opportunity to get the warlord under me.
I tried the handle and eased open the door. Hopefully, I’d find him in the throes of passion. Perhaps they’d like a third?
Light from the hallway spilled around me, through the opening doorway, into a room draped in black-and-red silks, the colors of War, and Draven lay on the floor, sprawled on his back. A slim, hooded figure straddled his twitching legs.
“Hey!”
The figure twisted, fixed me under their glare. A scarf covered the lower half of their face, like a mask. They bolted toward the window.
I lunged, but the hooded figure had too much of a head start. They threw open the window and leaped.
I skidded to Draven’s side. He kicked uselessly and clasped a hand to his bleeding neck. Blood leaked between his fingers. He grabbed my arm, lips moving, but making no sound.
“Be still. Let me see.” I pried his hand back. The wound didn’t spurt; it was just a thick dribble. Our fingers mingled, slippery with blood. He’d live… if he had help.
Or he might die here, if I did nothing.
He grabbed at my arm again, eyes pleading to save him.
He knew too much. I could walk away, let him bleed out while I chased after the attacker. Someone else had done the killing for me. But if I walked now, I might never know who had told him the truth about me, and that person was likely far more dangerous than a hapless warlord who’d wanted to dip his cock into a willing participant during his debut ball.
I gripped the man’s face, smearing blood across his pale cheek. “You’re going to survive, and you won’t tell a soul I was here. Nor will you tell anyone what you believe you know about me. Do you understand, Draven?”
He blinked, gurgled, and nodded.
I patted his chest and stood. “There’s a good lord—Guards!Attack! Guards!”
Doors slammed outside, voices rang. Someone would come soon. He’d be saved.
I dashed for the window. Draven’s assailant couldn’t have gotten far. The drop to the gardens below was doable. Movement caught my eye to my left, among the orchard trees. Someone running… And there he or she was, sprinting away. “Oh, no you don’t.” I vaulted the window, dropped, heart in my throat, and landed in a roll among trampled roses.
Run.
Running, I could do.
“There he is!” someone yelled from the balcony behind me, probably mistaking me for Draven’s attacker.
I flung up my hood, tore across the lawns, dashed through an arch in the high hedges, and burst into the orchard, where the grass was taller—the assailant’s trail obvious. I bolted after them and rounded an arbor. They were heading toward the hedge maze. I slowed… The maze’s arched mouth beckoned, eager to swallow any fool who happened to think they could outwit its many turns. I knew its turns, and also knew one wrong step would see me trapped inside with a potential killer, and the palace guards about to spill in behind us.
One night in a cell had been more than enough.
I veered away from the maze, and headed toward the palace and its terraces. Perhaps the maze would swallow the assailant. Although, considering how well he or she had darted through the gardens, they clearly knew what paths to take, and likely knew the secrets to the maze’s interior.
