Chapter Five: Narrow Escape
819 Words
“Whose ring is this?" The soldier demanded.
Lucas didn't answer.
He lifted the ring higher, letting the light catch it. Murmurs spread in waves behind Lucas.
Lucas didn’t reach for it.
He calculated.
Distance to the nearest blade.
Weight of the guard’s stance.
How many heartbeats before steel would clear leather.
Then—
“It’s mine.”
Aina stepped forward, breaking the circle, deliberately.
The soldiers turned. Some recognized her instantly. The shift was subtle.
The soldier holding the ring hesitated. “This seal—”
“My father had it commissioned,” she said smoothly. “A commemorative piece. I misplaced it weeks ago.”
The soldier frowned. “The engraving—”
“Is similar,” she interrupted softly. “As many crests are.”
Silence stretched.
Lucas watched her closely.
There was no tremor in her voice.
But her fingers had curled slightly into her sleeve.
Footsteps approached from within the inner gate.
A new figure stepped forward — dark coat, silver trim, expression unreadable.
The younger soldier whispered something to him and gestured towards the Lady.
The captain straightened immediately.
He took the ring.
Examined it.
Then looked directly at Lucas.
Recognition flickered.
Lucas knew that face.
He had been younger then.
Smaller.
Hidden behind pillars.
But he knew.
The man’s gaze lingered one breath too long.
Then he smiled.
“Release them,” he said.
The gates reopened.
The crowd exhaled.
The ring was returned to Aina — not to Lucas.
The palace official stepped closer as the crowd resumed movement.
Only Lucas could hear him when he spoke.
“Be careful what you carry.”
Then he walked away.
Aina did not look at him. She simply stood straight, the weight of the ring in her hand giving her leverage, control over the moment.
Lucas slipped through, keeping his hood low, while Aina’s carriage turned down another street, swallowed by escorts.
By midday, the market square buzzed louder than usual.
The market square was alive with sound.
Spices in the air. Vendors shouting prices. Children weaving between carts.
And at the center post near the well, a new parchment had drawn a crowd.
Lucas stepped closer.
PALACE GUARD RECRUITMENT
Written examination at dusk.
Combat trials to follow.
Successful candidates will serve within palace walls.
Men murmured around him.
“They’re increasing security.”
“After the council sessions?”
Lucas read every line.
Serving within palace walls meant proximity.
Proximity meant answers.
It was reckless.
He decided before he fully allowed himself to think.
Opportunity and danger coiled together.
By sunset, the examination hall filled with applicants. Long wooden tables. Guards pacing between rows. Smell of ink and sweat hung thick in the air, Lucas blended in, unremarkable among former soldiers, ambitious men, and sons of nobles.
The parchment before him was not simple.
Questions on military formation.
Crisis management.
Chain of command inside the palace.
He paused.
Those questions were not common knowledge.
He forced himself to hesitate before answering.
To appear thoughtful. Not instinctive.
When he handed in his paper, the examiner skimmed it.
Brows drew together.
“You’ve studied palace structure before?”
Lucas met his eyes evenly. “I listen well.”
The examiner held his gaze a second too long.
Then nodded.
“Combat trials at sunset.”
Torches lit the training yard as dusk fell.
Recruits were paired off quickly.
Lucas fought in the third round.
His opponent rushed aggressively.
Lucas shifted.
Disarmed him in two movements.
Too clean.
The murmurs started.
Second round.
This opponent was trained.
They circled.
Steel rang sharp and loud.
Lucas reacted without thinking—
A pivot. A controlled reverse grip. A royal close-quarter maneuver drilled into princes from childhood.
The yard went quiet.
The captain overseeing the trials straightened slowly.
He stepped forward.
“Where did you learn that form?”
Lucas’s breath was steady, but inside something tightened.
He forced a small shrug. “A soldier passing through my village. Years ago.”
The captain didn’t look convinced.
They circled again.
Lucas adjusted this time.
Less refined. Slightly rougher. He let the fight look harder than it was.
Finally, his opponent fell back, sword knocked from his hand.
The captain approached.
Close enough that Lucas could see the faint scar along his jaw.
And then—
Recognition flickered.
The captain had served the old court.
“You look familiar,” the captain said quietly.
The world seemed to narrow to that single sentence.
“Most faces do.”
A long pause.
Then the captain stepped back.
Names were called.
Rejected.
Accepted.
Rejected.
When Lucas’s name was spoken—
Accepted.
“Report to the barracks at dawn.”
Lucas inclined his head.
He had passed.
But as the recruits were dismissed, the captain remained where he stood.
Watching him leave.
And above, on the balcony lining the palace wall—
Another figure stood in shadow.
Unmoving.
Watching the same man.
- Writer
