My Reincarnation

Chapter Twelve

We squeezed into the hidden chamber, a cramped space behind a tapestry depicting the great victory of King Alexander. The air was thick with anticipation, and the dim light from a single torch cast long shadows across determined faces. My heart beat against my ribs, a reminder of the risk we were about to take.

"Alright," I whispered, my voice steady despite the chaos churning within me. "Avon, you know this place better than any of us. We need your eyes now."

Avon nodded, stepping forward with a confidence that belied our precarious situation. He crouched down, unrolling an ancient-looking map of the castle onto the cool stone floor. His tousled black hair fell over his keen green eyes as he pointed to various sections of the parchment.

"Here," he said, tapping a spot near the western wall. "This corridor is always less guarded at night. But we must avoid the main hall at all costs—too much exposure." His finger traced a route that zigzagged through the castle like the path of a cunning fox.

"Isn't that near the kitchens?" I asked, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look. The smell of herbs and spices seemed to waft up from the parchment itself, mingling with the musty scent of secrecy.

"Exactly," Avon replied. "Shift change for the cooks happens just after midnight. We can blend in with the staff leaving for the night."

"Blend in, right..." I mused, biting my lip. The idea of sneaking past guards dressed as kitchen maids was almost amusing—almost. At least until you remembered the consequences of getting caught.

"Here's the tricky part," Avon continued, his finger hovering over a section marked with red. "The East Wing. It's being renovated, which means construction and confusion, but also more eyes."

"More eyes that won't recognize everyone," I countered. "It could work to our advantage if we play it smart."

"Smart and quick," Avon agreed, looking up at me with a glimmer of admiration. "We'll need to time this perfectly."

"Then timing will be everything," I said, standing up straighter. "We've trained for this. We're ready."

"Are we?" Avon's question wasn't a challenge—it was a necessary gut check. And as I met the gaze of each ally in turn, I saw my determination reflected at me. We were more than ready; we were resolute.

"Absolutely," I affirmed with a nod. "We're going to walk out of King Jamison's castle, and there's not a force on earth that can stop us."

"Then let's not waste another moment," Avon replied, rolling up the map and tucking it away. "We've got a king to dethrone and lives to save. Let's do this—for Princess Annalise, for King Alexander, for all of us."

"For all of us," I echoed, feeling the weight of my past life as Princess Annalise melding with the strength I'd forged as Lizzy Fallon. Together, we would reclaim my kingdom or die trying. As we huddled closer, finalizing our plan beneath the watchful eyes of history woven into the tapestry, I knew one thing for certain: this was where I was meant to be.

The air was thick with the musty scent of old stone and secrets as I paced the confines of our clandestine meeting spot. My mind whirred, alive with the hum of magic that was still so foreign yet intoxicatingly powerful within me. "We need a diversion," I declared, halting mid-stride to face my companions, "something to draw the guards away from the dungeons and the eastern towers."

"Diversion?" Octavia's voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp and focused. She had always been one to think on her feet, her resilience shining like a beacon in the darkest times.

"Yes," I said, nodding vigorously. "My magic—I can conjure illusions, maybe even replicate the sound of an invading army at the western gates. It would send the guards scrambling."