The light from the windows had turned golden, slipping softly across the floor of the princess's chambers like a silent warning. The morning had passed, then the afternoon. Servants had come and gone, as they always did, but Anna had kept them at bay with firm, carefully chosen words and the weight of her false confidence.
__Anna: "Her Highness requested solitude today. She is not to be disturbed."
She had said it again and again, smiling when needed, frowning when it was expected. Her hands had trembled once or twice, but she'd hidden them beneath the long sleeves of her uniform. The performance was exhausting but necessary.
She had thought the worst might pass. She had thought she might just make it through the day.
But now the light outside was shifting once more, deepening toward the blue of approaching dusk, and with it came the sound of heavy steps echoing down the corridor. Not hurried, not panicked measured and slow. Regal. Inevitable.
Anna turned her head toward the door just as it opened. And there she was, queen Isabella.
Not a word was spoken at first. The queen stepped inside without knocking, her dark gown trailing like ink across the marble. Behind her stood two guards, their faces unreadable beneath their helms. Anna straightened instantly, bowing her head, her mouth dry.
__Queen Isabella : "It seems my daughter is very fond of solitude today."
Her voice was smooth, but something sharp hid beneath the velvet an edge honed by decades of rule.
__Anna: "Yes, Your Majesty. She... she asked not to be disturbed."
__Queen Isabella : "All day?"
Anna hesitated, too long.
__Queen Isabella : "Step aside."
__Anna: "Please, Your Majesty, I'm sure she..."
__Queen Isabella : "Now."
There was no arguing. Anna moved aside slowly, her breath caught in her throat. She watched as the queen approached the bed, her posture impeccable, her fingers grazing the frame with calculated delicacy.
She reached for the blankets, then paused. Something was wrong. She knew it. Anna could see it in the queen's narrowed eyes.
She peeled back the covers. She froze. The shape beneath the sheets was too rigid. Too symmetrical. She pressed down on it and the illusion collapsed. It was pillows.
A cold silence gripped the room. The queen's head turned slightly, her profile sharp as a blade.
__Queen Isabella : "Where is she?"
Anna didn't answer. Her lips parted, but no sound came. There was no excuse that would work now. No clever lie to spin. It was over.
__Queen Isabella : "Where. Is. My. Daughter?"
Still no answer.
The queen stood fully, every inch of her radiating fury.
__Queen Isabella: "Guards."
The two men stepped forward instantly.
__Queen Isabella : "Take her to the dungeons. Do not be gentle."
__Anna: "Wait..."
But it was too late. Iron fingers closed around her arms, dragging her back from the room. She didn't fight. There was no point.
As she was pulled into the corridor, she heard the queen's voice rise behind her, calm, but commanding:
__Queen Isabella: "Sound the alarm. The princess is missing."
And with those words, the silence of the palace shattered.
A bell began to toll in the distance, its sound deep and foreboding. Footsteps thundered across the stone floors. Voices echoed in every hall. The entire castle had awakened in a storm of confusion and urgency.
Anna stumbled as the guards pushed her forward, her feet struggling to keep pace.
She had known this would happen. She had accepted it.
But now, as the cold air of the lower halls wrapped around her and the darkness of the dungeons opened before her, doubt crept in.
Had Elena made it out? Was she safe? Had she found the horse? Had she escaped the capital ? She had no way of knowing. And now… she might never know. The iron door closed behind her with a final, echoing clang.
And upstairs, the queen stood in the empty room of her vanished daughter, eyes locked on the dismantled bed, rage burning like a silent inferno.
Prince Adrian had been in the northern wing, discussing some irrelevant matter with two minor nobles when the bell rang. The sound of the alarm bells echoed through the palace like a funeral toll. It was rhythmic, urgent, unmistakable.
He stood up so quickly his chair fell over behind him.
__Adrian: "Stay here."
He didn't wait for a response. His boots struck the stone floors in quick, clipped steps as he crossed the hallways, weaving between startled servants and confused guards.
Then he saw the queen. Her face was like marble: beautiful, cold, unyielding. Their eyes met across the corridor.
__Adrian: "What happened ?"
The queen's jaw tightened. Her voice was like frost.
__Queen Isabella : "Elena is missing."
The prince froze. The princess run away. She humiliated him. Played him for a fool in front of the entire court.
And now the queen his betrothed's own mother was pacing up and down the throne hall with a tension she tried to mask beneath regal calm, issuing orders to her guards, sending scouts on horseback, dispatching hawks with messages to the neighboring provinces.
But Adrian didn't listen to her anymore. He heard only the sound of his pride snapping in two.
She fled. Before their wedding. As if he was some leper she had to escape. The veins in his hands pulsing with controlled fury. The dark silk of his ceremonial robes swept the floor, dragging behind him like a shadow of the life he had envisioned and now seen shattered.
He turned away from the queen, leaving the hall behind him without a word. The courtiers parted for him like water before a burning ship.
They all saw it. The insult. The disgrace. He had been publicly shamed. And by a child, a spoiled, willful child who thought herself clever enough to outplay a prince.
In the privacy of his own quarters, the old prince poured himself a fresh goblet of wine and drank it in one motion. Then another. But no amount of bitterness on his tongue could match the taste of vengeance simmering in his throat.
He crossed to his desk, tore open a drawer, and pulled out a scroll sealed with his personal crest. His hand shook slightly as he cracked the wax and unfurled it.
It was a list of names. Men loyal to him. Not to the queen. Not to the court.
He won't let the princess hide behind trees and shadows like a coward. He dipped a quill in ink and began writing orders, one by one, dispatches to his most trusted trackers, riders, mercenaries. Men who didn't ask questions. Men who weren't restrained by royal protocol or delicate morals.
__Adrian: "Let the queen send her guards into the woods. Let her whimper like a mother looking for a lost lamb. I'll send wolves."
His fingers curled around the edge of the parchment, his breath growing heavier.
__Adrian: "She thinks she can vanish and ruin my name? Leave me standing alone like some abandoned relic of a broken deal?"
He paced to the window and stared out across the palace courtyard where horses were being saddled and riders were preparing for search efforts.
__Adrian: "No."
__Adrian: "She'll learn what it means to humiliate a man like me."
He leaned both hands on the edge of the stone sill, knuckles white.
__Adrian: "I will find her. Myself, if I must."
__Adrian: "And when I do... she'll beg for the comfort of the palace walls."
He imagined her then, dirt-stained and ragged in the woods, her noble skin scratched by brambles, her soft hands blistered from walking. The image didn't bring him sorrow.
It thrilled him.
__Adrian: "I'll make her regret every step she took away from this castle."
And he meant it. Not just because he had been jilted. But because she had defied the plan. The union. The alliance.
The queen had arranged this marriage to stabilize the realm, to ensure peace between two ancient houses. And Elena had just cast the entire future of the kingdom into chaos.
Adrian turned from the window with fire in his chest and purpose in his stride. He summoned his steward, his scribe, his personal guard.
__Adrian: "Gather the men. Quietly. We leave before nightfall."
__Steward: "To where, Your Grace?"
__Adrian: "To the forest. And beyond."
__Steward: "And… the queen?"
__Adrian: "She will do what queens do. I will do what men of honor do."
And with that, he began to prepare. Not just for a chase but for a reckoning. Because Adrian wouldn't just bring Elena back. He would own her disgrace. He would show her what it meant to run from him.
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The
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Few days later.
Elena stood still for a second, blinking against the afternoon light that filtered between the thinning trees. The open space beyond the forest looked almost unreal, as if her mind had conjured it after so many hours trapped beneath the oppressive canopy. Her legs trembled, not from fear this time, but from the exhaustion that surged forward now that the hardest part seemed behind her.
__Elena: "We made it..."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Elias turned to look at her, his brow furrowed. He didn't smile, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
__Elias: "You're lucky I found you. The forest isn't kind to wanderers."
Elena nodded slowly, but her gaze remained fixed on the road. It was wide and mostly empty, stretching far into the horizon, edged by more trees and the occasional stone marker. It wasn't the bustling world of the palace or the narrow streets of the capital. This was the outskirts. She didn't recognize where they were exactly, but it didn't matter.
It wasn't the palace. That was all she needed for now.
She followed Elias to a small flat clearing near the road. There, tethered to a crooked tree, stood a lean brown horse with a white patch over its flank. It pawed at the dirt impatiently and lifted its head when Elias approached.
__Elias: "This is Farrow," he said, patting the horse's neck. "He doesn't usually like strangers, but you'll ride behind me. He'll tolerate it."
She took a slow step forward, eyeing the animal. She'd only ever ridden well-groomed palace horses, creatures trained to carry nobility in silence and grace. This horse was wiry, scarred, with a look of independent defiance in his eyes, just like his owner.
She didn't reach out to touch him. She wasn't sure she could fake confidence right now.
Elias adjusted the saddle and mounted first with practiced ease before offering her a hand. She hesitated only a moment before placing her hand in his.
He hoisted her up behind him, and she settled awkwardly on the saddle, trying not to wince. Her entire body ached, and her dress stiff and coarse from sweat and dirt, clung to her skin uncomfortably.
__Elias: "Hold on."
She wrapped her arms around his waist, loosely at first, but tightened her grip when Farrow started to move. The motion jostled her sore limbs, but she clenched her teeth and said nothing.
They rode in silence for a while, the rhythm of the horse's steps filling the air between them. Occasionally, Elias glanced back at her, his expression unreadable.
__Elias: "You've never been in these woods before, have you?"
__Elena: "No."
__Elias: "You're not from around here either."
She paused.
__Elena: "No. I'm… I came from the capital. But I can't go back."
The way she said it left no room for questioning. She knew how final it sounded. And from the way Elias turned forward again without pushing further, she could tell he heard what she wasn't saying.
She let the silence wrap around them again. It was easier than talking. Her throat felt raw anyway, and her mind hadn't yet settled. It was all happening so fast, too fast. And yet not fast enough.
The wind pulled at her short hair, still uneven from the quick cut. She missed the weight of it, the soft strands that used to fall past her shoulders. She missed her bed, her room, the comfort of silk and the scent of clean linen.
Now all she could smell was pine, leather, and the faint musk of the forest clinging to her clothes and skin.
She shifted in the saddle, trying to find a position that didn't ache, but it was impossible. Her muscles screamed with every jolt.
__Elena: "How far are we from the next village?"
__Elias: "A few hours. Less if Farrow feels cooperative."
She exhaled.
__Elena: "Do you think anyone saw me?"
__Elias: "You mean back in the forest?"
__Elena: "Anywhere."
He was quiet for a moment.
__Elias: "No one lives close to that part of the woods. Too close to the border."
She tilted her head slightly.
__Elena: "The border?"
__Elias: "Yeah. You're almost out of the northern provinces. Cross the river near Solmire, and you're in a different jurisdiction altogether."
That stirred something hopeful inside her. A different jurisdiction meant different laws. Maybe… less reach for the crown.
Still, she couldn't be sure. Not yet.
They rode until the trees thinned for good and the road opened onto a wide grassy slope overlooking the beginning of a distant village. Smoke curled from a handful of chimneys, and small figures moved between fields and fences. The sun, now sinking behind a line of hills, bathed everything in gold.
Elena felt something catch in her throat at the sight. It wasn't home, but it looked peaceful. Real.
__Elias: "We'll stop there for the night. You need rest. And food. You look like you haven't eaten properly in days."
He wasn't wrong. The rations she'd carried were few and nearly gone. Her stomach churned at the thought of real food.
As they approached, Elias slowed Farrow's pace.
__Elias: "There's an inn. Old friend of mine runs it. You'll be safe there, for now. You'll need a better story than the one you gave me if anyone asks, though."
__Elena: "I'll think of something."
__Elias: "I'm serious. People here don't like trouble. They'll turn you in if they think you're hiding something."
She nodded slowly.
__Elena: "I understand."
He glanced back again, his voice softer this time.
__Elias: "You've got the look of someone who's lost more than they expected. Just… keep your head down. You'll survive this."
"Survive."
Not live. Not find peace. Just survive. But for now, that was enough.