The Summer Palace [Fantasy romance/enemies to lovers/new adult]

Chapter Four

I've severely misjudged my own athletic abilities.

I'd left the inn at the first sign of dawn, forgoing a full breakfast and instead packing two apples in my bag for the road.

I found no sleep at all last night, instead sitting atop the bedcovers with the jitters, worrying that I'd hear hooves clopping on the ground outside as my father's guards come to whisk me back to Evallen. Despite constantly reminding myself that it was highly unlikely I'd be found missing until the morning, the fear still wouldn't subside, not entirely.

In the end my night sailed by uninterrupted, and when the first rays of sun began to bleed into the sky I began my lengthy hike to Whitehollow.

Though bright and warm I am not finding the beginning of the morning to be too cheerful.

By now my disappearance at the palace will have probably been noted. I can only assume that my grace period has now ended, and that a search party is thoroughly underway. My father will be sat somewhere devoid of all nerves, perhaps pouring over his ledgers like any usual day. My mother is likely fretting and fussing - not for my well-being, of course, but for the way I have run away from my impending engagement. My fleeing will be scandal in court, and she is much more interested in her reputation than she is in me.

Despite my pleasant surroundings, I'm currently struggling to keep up the pace I'd set off with. I'm walking through a small clearing within Fairweather Woods. Around me the morning birds are singing in chorus, a slight breeze picks at the tree leaves and runs through my hair, the sunlight is golden and glitters through branches. I'd be entirely content if it weren't for the God-damned ache in my legs, getting worse the more I walk. I'm loathe to sit down, but soon enough I know I'll have to. My breathing is laboured and thick, my lungs struggling to keep up. I can feel my heart thudding throughout my limbs. The skin beneath my dress is freckled with beads of sweat. What's worse is, without breakfast, I also have an empty ache resting solemnly in my stomach.

I'm not sure I'm cut out for walking.

When I was little I was taught how I could soothe aches with magic - only very slightly, of course, with the little power I possess. I try and focus on my burning calves, imagine that I'm dousing their flames with water, but nothing comes of it. I'm still all spent from last night's daring escape - the magic running through my veins is as exhausted as me.

The heaviness of my bag, strapped onto my front as if I'm nursing it, doesn't help either. It's filled with coin, jewels, two and a half apples, and my nightdress screwed up somewhere amongst it. I've a constant mind to eat the apples, but then I'm not sure how long I've left to go, and so I'm also wondering if it would be safer to save them. I'm hoping when I get to Whitehollow I can buy some decent food, and then carry on my merry way to the ports. Then I can use my remaining coin to get me passage on a ship to some far off land - perhaps Terian or maybe even Prylea - and pawn the jewellery there. In another kingdom they'll be worth more, fine gems from Novelonian mines. I'll live a comfortable life with my meagre riches until I'm able to return back to Novelon - which will be whenever my brother Julian becomes Lord of Mariana Bay and I'm not tied to my parents' whims of my matrimony. This won't be until my father dies, however, which is a sombre thought. I could also return if Lord Richtenstar marries someone else, but he's lived so long without a suitor that I can't place much hope on that. In truth, I've no idea how long I'll be away from home for.

There are people I'll miss dearly.

My brother Jules of course, though I haven't seen him for some time since he decided to get all Hell out of our family himself and enlist in the military for a few years. My closest friends Rupa and Elias, who I'd been excited to spent the entire summer with. My chambermaid Emmeline, who helped me to escape the palace grounds by slipping a key to the sewers from a serving quarters keychain. She can talk on and on for hours, but I always found it quite soothing when I had pre-ball butterflies and she'd gossip while braiding my hair and painting my face. I'll miss the antics at the summer balls and fetes, playing tricks on Odette and her cronies with Rupa and Elias, swiping sparkling wine and trying on dresses at the couturier. I'll miss the water back at home in Mariana Bay, the way it sparkles like champagne in the sunlight. I'll miss our little library and the way the reading nook frames the full moon at midnight. I'll miss strolls out to Hightop Crag, and speaking to Ninna's grave when I desperately need her advice - if it's only just whether I should throw out last season's mules. I'll even miss my father and my mother despite how entirely frustrating they are.