Chapter 14
1565 Words
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I whispered to no one. Boots scraped against my heels as I yanked them on.
The sky was a bruised silver overhead. Dawn crept in slow and pale, not warm, not golden, just cold.
"But this destitute princess has got to do what she's gotta do."
I crept through the castle like I belonged in its shadow.
Silent and sharp-eyed.
Every step felt heavier like the castle didn’t want me to leave.
My breath ghosted the air as I pressed a hand to the cold stone wall, listening—counting the guards’ rotations by their boots.
East wing. Four guards.
Kitchen. Two.
None near the old servant passage—not since it collapsed halfway in during the last renovation.
Perfect.
Jumping over the columns, I ducked under cobwebs. I ducked low, slipping behind the crumbling bookshelf and lifted the stone panel behind a tapestry.
The abandoned trash chute.
The crawlspace beyond was narrow—claustrophobic and clawed up from years of rats, rot, and neglect.
Only Elio and I knew of this passage.
Last night I left for the pack hospital after the run in with Isolde. He didn’t look beat up anymore. He just looked like he was pretty and asleep.
I stopped myself from thinking about him. My gown snagged on rusted nails as I crawled through the narrow chute and my body scraped against the jagged edges but I didn’t stop.
Not when every sliver of doubt to go back felt like something was judging me. Not when my heart still ached from overhearing the conversation Alpha Romero, my father had with his councillors.
Not when I had less than an hour before the envoy was to depart without me.
The world opened up.
When my knees hit dirt—hard, wet, and real, I froze.
The scent hit me first. Soil. Morning frost. Wild grass.
The moment I got to my feet beneath the castle, i ran, heart in my throat.
I had to make sure no one saw me.
I ran until the stone of the castle blurred behind trees and thorns and low fog. Until the wind slapped the thoughts of staying from my head.
The old stables sat crooked on the edge of the estate like crooked teeth. But the supply wagons were there, tucked behind rotting planks, wheels already loaded for the docks.
I climbed into the first one i saw, burrowed deep under tarps and ropes.
It was a spice and scent wagon.
When the cart finally lurched forward, I didn’t breathe until the castle disappeared behind a veil of trees.
The laughter came quietly but I didn’t celebrate just yet.
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We made it to the lower district just as the sun cracked over the rooftops.
The market was already alive.
Smoke. Fish. Burning oil. Shouts from toothless vendors with cracked voices. It was chaos—but thankfully the kind you could disappear in.
I jumped down, stuck to the alleys, and moved quick.
Ducking behind a stack of crates I yanked the gown over my head. The chill slapped my skin.
I pulled on the pants I’d swiped from a clothesline and shoved my arms into a worn tunic. Scratched and rough at the collar.
Then I took soot from a nearby chimney stack and smeared it across my cheeks and jaw. My hands worked without thought. Fast and focused.
Last was my hair.
That white as snow hair. The thing they all whispered about. A genetic malformation.
I stuffed it under a charcoal-streaked cap, tucked every strand tight. Not a glint left to shine.
I passed a shop window and froze.
There.
My reflection.
I smiled at the dirty thing smiling back at me.
She was pretty. In an uninteresting way.
I made up my mind and headed for the docks.
Heart on my sleeves.
!! !! !! !! !! !!
The ship loomed like a leviathan, tall and sharp, sails dark as ravens.
The Royal Crest of Vargrheim hung heavy from its mast—black wolf, silver moon.
Standing on the dock like he owned the tide was the ship’s quartermaster—broad shoulders, shaved head with a whistle clenched between his teeth.
Cinder studied him.
Tall. Built like a mast. Neck like a bull.
But he was sharp. Smarter than he looked.
She needed an opening. A reason to be seen as necessary on that vessel.
Cinder was crouched low in the shadow of a salt-crusted barrel, tucked between fish crates that reeked of brine and days-old scales. Her heart thundered like drums in her chest.
To be honest she hadn't expected it to be this easy. She was supposed to be under supervision.
A rat scurried past her foot and she flinched.
She’d been watching the dockhands for nearly thirty minutes as they moved ropes and supplies. Long enough to memorize the pacing of the coastal guards. Long enough to learn who barked orders, who slacked, who stole.
And one of them, a wiry, twitchy teen who couldn’t stop glancing around, was about to do her the biggest favor of her life.
He sidled up to a stall like he’d done it a dozen times before.
It was small—just a cart stacked with polished wooden beads and cheap trinkets meant to attract passing crew.
Cinder watched his fingers dance over the necklaces, slipping a small copper compass into his coat pocket.
Old Matha—as someone had shouted earlier, the vendor, barely noticed. Her back was to him. She was adjusting the lockbox under her cart.
Cinder straightened.
"Hey! Hey! That one!" She pointed, voice cracking. "That boy just robbed your stall!"
The vendor jolted, half scared by the blackened face. "What?! Where?!"
The boy froze like a rabbit caught mid-hop.
A couple of dockhands turned. A few others started laughing.
"He took it! I saw him! Slipped it right into his pocket!"
Matha squinted at him. "You little runt! That compass belonged to my husband—get him for me!"
Guards moved instantly. Two of them descended from the port side like hounds let off the leash.
"Wait! No! I didn’t—I was just looking—I was gonna pay for it. I swear!"
The teen backed into a stack of crates, knocking over a bucket of squid. The contents slopped across the wood in a pink mess.
Laughter erupted.
One of the guards grabbed him by the scruff.
"Thief on loading duty? Looks like we got a stowaway with sticky fingers."
The captain of the ship master emerged from the crowd.
"What's this now?"
"Caught him lifting a compass, Captain," said one of the guards. "From Matha's stall."
The captain peered at the boy, then at the trinket half-poking out of his coat. He sighed and scratched at his beard.
"Damn fool. We set sail with royal cargo in less than an hour and you want to risk the wrath of a market hag? Toss him in the city watch’s pen. Let the Envoy leave with clean boots."
The guards nodded and hauled the boy away, still protesting and slipping in squid slime.
Cinder stepped forward before her nerves could catch up to her.
She held a bundle of rope against her hip, stolen from a nearby post. Her hands were already blistered from lifting it.
"Captain," she said, lowering her voice, keeping her head ducked. "He was my brother. We were both hired. But I don’t need both wages. Just a spot. I can work."
The captain eyed her with squinted eyes.
"That's strange. My ship always informs me of our crew status. We've never had brothers aboard before. You from the city?"
"Lower Quarter. Name’s Gio. Gio Travelson."
"Do you have a city pass?"
Cinder stayed mute.
He grunted in understanding. Many of this type of crew weren't in the capital legally. "You look like you haven’t eaten in a week."
"I don't eat much. I promise, sir." She purposely deepened her voice.
A few dockhands chuckled.
"The boy need not be modest. He's almost framed like a little laddie now."
The captain spat over the side of the dock. Then nodded.
"Fine. You load quiet, lift straight, no chatter, and if you puke on my deck, you clean it up with your shirt. Understood?"
Cinder looked up then. Surprise and gratitude in her eyes. "Aye."
He waved her toward the ship with a flick of his fingers, already shouting orders at someone else.
She gave her most winning smile to the rest of the crew.
They just pat her on the back and called her a good sport.
They all thought she was a boy. Her disguise had worked.
As she stepped onto the loading ramp with the others, the sky overhead began to clear. The mist thinned, revealing the dark, looming silhouette of the Royal Ship in full.
She was on.
Cinder Romero, runaway princess and now dockhand, had slipped beneath their noses.
Her smile had yet to leave her face when fate tested her.
Because just as her boots met the wood of the deck, a new voice rose from the outer edge of the docks—loud, urgent and surprised.
"Make way for the Alpha Heir!"
Cinder froze.
A murmur swept through the harbor.
And with a sinking heart, she turned toward the commotion.
Elio was awake
- Writer
