Embers in Dying Flames

Chapter One

A knock sounds throughout her chambers bringing her from the dark recess of her endless thoughts. They've finally come to get her.

She hops off of her bed, grabs her pack from where she hid it, and races to the doorway to see Sir Archibald and his sons standing there. His youngest, Rufus, stood closest to her holding out a small, navy blue cloak. He was the closest in age to her, but not by much as he was only a few winters her elder. 

 She took the cloak from his hand and threw it over her shoulders tying the front laces together. With the door closed behind her as quietly as she could, and the vacuum of silence surrounding them in the dead of night, she fully crossed the threshold of her captivity into her first steps of freedom. She held her head high and stared at those who stood before her. The only family she truly had; the only ones who would rescue her.

Jackson, the oldest of Archibald's sons, stood at the back with Everett, the middle son. Having never spent much time with the older boys as she did Rufus, her connection with them wasn't as strong. Nevertheless, she knew in her heart and soul that she could trust them to protect her, and that they viewed her the same as she viewed them. 

Family.

Both men, not boys as Everett, 19 and Jackson, 23, held their swords at the ready. When Jackson glanced over at her and grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkled softly, the same as their mother's did. He was always the most nurturing of the siblings as he was the oldest and most empathetic. 

Everett, ever the wildcard, stood stoic and still. Worryingly still. She'd never seen him this still before.

"Little Gemstone, we need to be going now," Sir Archibald held his large, ungloved, calloused hand out for her to take. 

She always did love when he called her Little Gemstone. Unlike when others gave her nicknames, this one wasn't demeaning or demoralizing. Not the way he said it. It reminded her of faint memories of people long since passed.

Emmy gladly slides her hand into his larger one which completely engulfs hers. He smiles down at her, but it does nothing to eradicate the steel cage wrapped around her heart. She can't muster up even a hint of anything besides the gaping, empty hole gnawing away at her inners.

Normally, holding Archibald's hand was a comfort to her, and this time was no different. Him here means her freedom, but also the end of everything she knows. No one ever talked about how frightening freedom truly was.

Rufus grins his stupid lopsided grin that always made Emmy want to just punch him, slings her pack on his shoulder, and slides his hand into her free one. A small squeeze from him soothes the storm in her belly. He truly was the bestest of friends. Her only friend, really. A great one, nonetheless.

The small group marches down the passageways with Rufus on her left, Sir Archibald on her right, Jackson and Everett following up the rear, swords still held out at the ready for any oncoming assault.

At the late hour, not many roamed the halls outside of a few patrols who nodded at Sir Archibald as he rushed them all through the winding corridors, and a few servants carrying out late night duties. None of the guards passing joined, but none fought to stop them either. Not until Grand Duke Minos stomps up to the group.

"What is the meaning of this, Archibald? Her Royal Highness is supposed to stay in her quarters at all times." He demands.

Archibald lets go of her hand and pushes her behind him unsheathing his sword as he does so. Everett steps in front of Rufus hiding the youngest two behind them out of clear eyesight. Emmy chanced a glance down at her arms to see the shaking of earlier had returned. Rufus gives another firm squeeze. Jackson, still at the back, rests a hand on her shoulder briefly.