Chapter Three: An Uneasy Escape
1504 Words
The footsteps outside Liora’s door stopped abruptly.
For a brief moment, the silence in the building was so deafening that the deaf could hear it loud and clear.
Liora tightened her grip on the knife in her hand. That was her companion, after all. Across the room, Cassian stood near the door, his sword drawn but lowered, listening, but hearing nothing, but silence.
The silence lasted only a heartbeat as it was quickly interrupted.
Then the door exploded inward.
Wood splintered across the floor as armored soldiers rushed into the room, in their numbers.
Liora reacted instantly. She ducked behind the small table, flipping it sideways as the first man lunged forward.
Cassian moved just as quickly.
Steel rang against steel. Iron clashed against iron.
His sword flashed once, knocking aside a blade aimed at Liora’s shoulder.
“Move!” he snapped.
Liora didn’t argue. She is beginning to believe him. She had not much of a choice anyways.
She darted toward the window as another soldier pushed into the room. Cassian stepped between them, his sword moving with precise efficiency.
One strike disarmed the first man.
The second sent another crashing into the wall.
Liora glanced back and froze for half a second.
Cassian wasn’t fighting like a man trying to capture her.
He was fighting like a man trying to protect her.
Another soldier charged towrds him.
Cassian twisted sideways, knocking the man’s weapon aside before striking the hilt of his sword into the soldier’s chest.
The man collapsed.
But more footsteps echoed in the stairwell.
Too many.
Cassian’s gaze flicked briefly toward the fallen men.
Their armor was black.
Not the silver of the royal guard.
His jaw tightened.
“These aren’t mine.”
Liora paused halfway through climbing out the window.
“Your what?”
“My soldiers.”
Another armored figure stepped through the doorway.
Cassian shoved the table toward him, buying them a moment.
“Whoever sent them,” he muttered, “they’re not working for the crown.”
“Then who are they working for?” Liora demanded.
Cassian didn’t answer. There was no time for such.
Instead he grabbed her arm and pulled her through the window.
They landed on the narrow fire escape outside.
“Down,” he ordered.
They climbed quickly, boots clanging against the metal ladder. The alley below was dimly lit by a single flickering lantern.
Liora hit the ground first.
Cassian landed beside her.
Behind them, voices shouted from the broken window.
“There!”
“Don’t let them escape!”
Liora grabbed Cassian’s sleeve.
“This way!”
She sprinted down the narrow alley, weaving between stacked crates and broken barrels. Cassian followed close behind, his long strides easily keeping pace with her.
Crossbow bolts clattered against the stone wall beside them.
Liora ducked into another alley, then another.
The lower quarter of Virellia twisted like a maze of narrow streets and crooked buildings. Most outsiders got lost within minutes.
But Liora knew every corner.
“Left,” she whispered.
Cassian turned with her without hesitation. It was her turn to be the pathfinder.
Footsteps echoed behind them.
Still too close.
Liora vaulted over a low cart and glanced back again.
“Persistent, aren’t they?”
Cassian’s voice remained calm despite the chase.
“They were waiting for you.”
“For me?” she shot back.
“They didn’t care that I was here.”
That wasn’t entirely true.
But Cassian didn’t correct her. Again, he had no such time.
Another group of soldiers appeared at the end of the alley ahead.
Liora skidded to a stop.
“Fantastic.”
Cassian stepped forward.
“Stay behind me.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
But he was already moving.
The first soldier swung his sword.
Cassian blocked it effortlessly.
His movements were smooth, controlled, almost effortless. Within seconds, two men were disarmed and another lay groaning on the ground.
Liora watched with reluctant admiration.
For a man built like a fortress, he moved incredibly fast.
But something else caught her attention.
He wasn’t killing them.
Every strike was precise.
Disarming.
Disabling.
Never fatal to mime or kill.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
Another soldier lunged toward her.
Liora ducked under his swing and drove her elbow into his ribs before sweeping his legs out from under him.
Cassian glanced over.
“You fight well.”
“So do you.”
He knocked aside another blade.
“And yet you still think I came here to arrest you.”
“You did,” she shot back.
“I changed my mind.”
They broke through the soldiers and ran again.
After several twisting streets and dark alleys, the sounds of pursuit finally faded.
Liora slowed to a cautious walk.
Cassian stopped beside her, scanning the rooftops.
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally Liora broke the silence.
“You’re terrible at arresting people.”
Cassian sheathed his sword.
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You chased me across half the city.”
“Yes.”
“That usually means someone’s getting arrested.”
Cassian looked at her calmly.
“Not tonight.”
Liora studied him carefully.
“You could’ve taken me back there,” she said. “You had the chance.”
“I did.”
“So why didn’t you?”
Cassian didn’t answer immediately. This time, not for lack of time, but because he was trying to choose the right words.
Instead he glanced toward the dark streets behind them.
“Because someone else wants you first.”
Liora frowned.
“Who?”
“That,” he said quietly, “is the question that concerns me.”
She crossed her arms.
“You’re the commander of the royal guard. Don’t tell me you don’t know who runs around your city in black armor.”
Cassian met her gaze.
“Those soldiers weren’t acting under royal orders.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning someone inside the court sent them.”
A cold feeling crept down Liora’s spine.
“And they want me dead?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Cassian’s eyes flicked briefly toward the satchel at her side.
“You already know the answer.”
Liora’s patience snapped.
“No,” she said sharply. “I don’t.”
The night air hung heavy between them.
“Start talking, Commander.”
Cassian studied her face.
Up close, the resemblance was even clearer now.
The former queen had possessed the same eyes.
The same defiant tilt of the chin.
It was impossible.
And yet..
“Liora,” he said carefully, “what do you know about your parents?”
She blinked.
“That’s a strange place to start.”
“Answer the question.”
“My father died before I was born,” she said. “My mother raised me until I was eight.”
“And after that?”
“She died.”
Cassian’s expression darkened.
“How?”
“Fever.”
He watched her closely.
“Who told you that?”
Liora frowned.
“The priest who ran the orphan house.”
Cassian looked away for a moment.
“Of course.”
Liora stepped closer.
“Enough riddles. Why are they hunting me?”
Cassian hesitated.
He knew the answer.
But saying it aloud would change everything.
For both of them.
“Because,” he said slowly, “if you’re who I think you are…”
He met her eyes again.
“The throne belongs to you.”
Silence fell between them.
Then Liora burst out laughing.
It wasn’t a polite laugh.
It was sharp.
Disbelieving, encapsulated in the laughter.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Commander, I grew up stealing bread and sleeping in abandoned buildings.”
“That doesn’t change your blood.”
“Apparently it does.”
Cassian reached toward her satchel.
“Show me the document.”
She hesitated.
Then slowly pulled it out.
Cassian unfolded the parchment.
His eyes scanned the page quickly.
Every royal name listed in precise order.
Every line of succession carefully recorded.
Then his gaze reached the bottom.
He handed it back to her.
“Look again.”
Liora rolled her eyes but glanced down.
Her eyes skimmed past the familiar names.
Past the royal titles.
Then stopped.
At the very bottom of the page.
Her name.
Written clearly.
Liora Vale
Beside it were four words written in elegant script.
Last surviving royal heir.
Her stomach dropped.
“That’s a mistake.”. “It can only be a mistake”. She keeps saying to herself, in a bid to convince herself that she has nothing to do with royalty.
Cassian said nothing.
She stared harder at the parchment.
The ink was official.
The seal unmistakable.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“That’s impossible.”
Cassian stepped closer.
“No,” he said quietly.
“What’s impossible is the fact that you are still alive”
His gaze locked onto hers.
- Writer
