The Escape
499 Words
The clock struck midnight.
The palace was quiet, lulled by wine and the weight of secrets. But beneath its silence, two figures moved like ghosts.
Liora clutched her satchel, the locket hidden beneath her tunic, heart beating like thunder against her ribs. Kael was waiting in the stables, already cloaked, sword strapped to his back. No crown. No title. Just a man in love, ready to run.
“You’re sure about this?” she asked.
He didn’t hesitate. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of.”
They mounted their horses and slipped through the eastern gates, past guards bribed with silver and promises. The road before them was narrow, moonlit, flanked by trees that whispered with wind and memory.
Freedom was close. Almost too close.
They made it as far as the shadowed ridge overlooking the river.
Then came the snap of a twig.
Kael drew his sword instantly, pulling Liora behind him. “Who’s there?”
A figure stepped from the darkness.
Cloaked in silver. Hood down. Hands raised.
Mareth.
“You’re going the wrong way, Prince,” he said quietly.
Kael narrowed his eyes. “You warned her. Why?”
“I served your mother,” Mareth said, voice low. “And I remember what the King did to her when she tried to defy him.”
His gaze shifted to Liora. “You look just like her. Like the Queen he burned from the records.”
Liora swallowed. “Then help us.”
“I already did,” he said. “But I’m not the only one watching.”
That’s when the arrows flew.
One struck Kael’s shoulder. Another whizzed past Liora’s cheek. From the trees, armed riders burst forward King’s Guard in black, led by a figure in white.
Elenya.
“You didn’t think I’d let you steal him, did you?” she called out, voice sweet as honey and sharp as glass.
Kael gritted his teeth, trying to hold his reins, blood soaking his sleeve. “Liora go!”
“I won’t leave you!”
“You have to!”
She turned to Mareth, eyes wide. “Help him. Please!”
But Mareth was already drawing his blade.
“I’ll hold them off. Head for the cliff. There’s a rope bridge down the ravine. Go!”
Liora rode like the wind, tears streaming down her face, Kael’s cries fading behind her. She didn’t look back not when the flames lit the treetops, not when the guards shouted, not even when Elenya’s voice rang out like a curse:
“Run, little fox. Run as far as you like. He’ll still be mine in the end.”
At the cliff’s edge, she dismounted, hands shaking as she found the bridge.
Wind howled. The planks swayed.
And as she crossed into the unknown, she whispered to the night:
“I’ll come back for you, Kael. I swear it.”
But in her heart, she didn’t know if he’d still be alive when she did.
- Writer
