Beware of darkness

Chapter 3

"When a king's wrath and forbidden desires collide, every choice could be your last."
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Song of the chapter: "The Devil within" -Digital dagger
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Or  "Take me to church" - Hozier
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The king's office is adorned with rich tapestries and a large oak desk. The room is filled with an air of anticipation as I enter. The king, visibly worried, rises from his chair as I approach. It's a life-or-death situation, and my fate hangs in the balance. The ruler gesture and the seat in front of him and says:

"I see that you got my letter." My hands shake, so I tug them between my legs, hiding my fear as I sit. I'm thorn apart between denying my actions, or admit them and try to find an understanding, what is very unlikely. I take a deep breath and respond.

"I did your highness. And I dare to guess I'm not here because you wish to hear what really happened."

The king gets a book out of his desk drawer and put it at my view, the title in gold, saying: civile code of Velaria. Evan's father opens the book and read what was written there.

"I quote: Any citizen of Velaria is forbidden from engaging in any romantic exchange with an individual of the same gender. In cases where there is any suspicion of such behavior, which is deemed an offense against the gods, public execution shall be mandated unless the accused consents to treatment. This behavior is considered a violation of the natural order ordained by the gods and constitutes one of the gravest sins, as it renounces nature, fertility, and reproduction."

I audibly swallow, the sound loud in the quiet room as the scent of incense hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of aged wood and old parchment. The flickering candlelight casts long, wavering shadows across the richly decorated walls, creating an atmosphere thick with tension. I lock eyes with the king, feeling the weight of his gaze. The room is cool, near freezing as I gather my thought.  this is bullshit. Treated. They think it's an illness.

"With all my respect, your highness, I have no interest in women. I strongly believe someone is playing behind your back." My voice is steady, but I feel a bead of sweat trailing down the back of my neck, the only outward sign of my inner turmoil.

The king rests his elbow on the ornate desk, his fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood as he looks me up and down, scrutinizing every inch of me. The flicker of the candlelight reflects in his eyes, giving them a sinister gleam.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, Miss Shadowthorn." His voice is calm, but there's an undercurrent of menace in his tone that sends a chill down my spine. I lift my chin, refusing to be intimidated.

"And why would you think that I'm lying, your highness?" I ask, my voice firm as I pray to the god of luck, feeling the cold touch of fear inching closer. Death is not far off.

"You have lipstick on your neck." His words hit me like a slap. I freeze, my mind racing. I probably do. The room seems to grow even colder, the air heavier with tension.

I quickly try to come up with an explanation, but my thoughts are jumbled. As I meet the king's eyes again, I see that he's not convinced. He leans forward, the scent of the incense growing stronger as he invades my space, his gaze piercing.

"Miss Shadowthorn, I need the truth. Were you with Miss Cornelia in the hallway earlier tonight?" His voice is low, demanding. I'm caught. There's no point in lying now, but perhaps a half-truth will suffice.

"I was, your highness," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

He scratches his beard, the sound harsh in the otherwise silent room, and asks, "So, you admit that you and Miss Cornelia met in the corridors earlier tonight?"

"I do. The thing is, we didn't have any physical interaction like you seem to believe strongly." I glance out the window, watching the sun slowly rise, its light just beginning to seep into the room, softening the darkness but doing nothing to ease the tension.

"Then how, sorceress, do you happen to have lipstick on your neck? I will save you the trouble of talking in vain; I will meet Miss Cornelia soon enough. But know that you are obligated to marry my son in ten days." His voice is cold, final. He doesn't know. He has no idea his son is planning to flee soon, taking his lover with him. This is my chance. I'll accept and then run. I don't know how or where, but I will. I leave tomorrow. I won't let the king kill me. If I can't leave, I will fight. I won't make it easy for him. I'm stronger than him, angrier.

I simply nod, my heart pounding as I wait for him to dismiss me. The air is thick with unspoken threats, the room stifling despite the cool temperature.

"Go see the teller. I want to know how many heirs you'll give my son. And don't think you got away so easily earlier tonight for no reason. I knew you would mess up soon enough for me to use it against you. You're not that smart." His words are laced with venom, and I feel my rage bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. But I push it down, burying it deep as I turn and walk away, only moving once he orders me to leave.

                                       ***

When I return from the office, the cool air of my chambers greets me, a stark contrast to the heated tension of the king's study. I immediately go to bed, trying to sleep, but it's in vain, obviously. The scent of lavender on my pillow does nothing to calm my racing mind. The only thing I can do is think about a plan to escape. Evan won't be here when the king wakes up. He might already be gone. I'm happy for him—he'll be living happily. But a part of me is mad. I'm in this alone, abandoned by everyone I cared about. But I don't have time to complain. I must act. If I can't sleep, I will at least use the time for something important.

I change into pants and one of Evan's shirts he once gave me, the fabric soft and worn from countless washes. I gather all my gold marks into a small bag, tying it securely around my waist, and put a coat over everything, making sure it's the one with the hood. I keep my dagger strapped to my leg, a cold comfort against my skin, faking the ability to defend myself without my powers. I redo my braid, the familiar motions calming my nerves, lace my boots, and silently walk to the kitchen. The scent of bread fills the air as I grab some provisions, then slip out, running away while the guards are distracted, their low murmurs filling the otherwise quiet night. They let me out. I have nothing to lose. The rising sunlight reflects on the distant ocean as I pass through the castle walls. My first thought is to steal a horse from the stable, but the guards are changing shifts, all awake, so I decide to hide in a boat, one that will depart soon enough.

I run through the streets, my braid trailing in the wind as the first boats begin to leave the port. My heart races, knowing I might be throwing my life away by fleeing the king's orders. I won't be safe anywhere now that I've left. I won't come back, ever. But I still have a long way to go.

Once I reach the first few boats, I slow down, putting my hood up as I carefully choose the ship that looks safest. Some are too big, others loaded with too many goods, and worst of all, most are Septinian vessels from the party. It takes a few minutes of walking alongside the port before I find the right boat. It looks safe, well-equipped, and has a perfect spot to hide behind some crates. The salty scent of the sea mixes with the stench of fish, but I push through it—anything is better than being executed.

I make sure no one is on board before climbing up, quickly crouching behind the crates I had spotted earlier. The wood is rough against my skin as I curl up, trying to make myself as small and comfortable as possible before the boat leaves. The smell is stronger here, the fish odor nearly overpowering, but I don't care. I had a thought for Dove, who I left behind. I'm selfish for doing that. But I couldn't go back. Or maybe I could? Regret rushes over me, heavy and cold. I have to go back for her. I'm willing to take that risk. I get up and start running again, my heart pounding as I head back to the palace. It's a huge risk, one that could cost me my life. But right now, in this very moment, I know deep in my heart that I couldn't live with myself if I left her to her execution, especially when it's my fault as much as hers. My braid trails in the wind as I focus on running.

The pain in my legs burns as I approach the entrance to the palace ward, my mind focused on one thing: Dove.

Dove, Dove, Dove.

I reach the gate, the guards watching me with suspicious eyes. The youngest of them asks, "Why are you out of the gate so early in the morning, Divine Survivor?" That stupid name. I hate it. It makes the others of my kind seem weak. I clench my teeth and respond.

"I went to the teller, under the king's orders. You must let me pass." I raise my chin, masking my fear with false confidence. The guards exchange glances before bowing slightly and letting me through. I walk calmly, forcing myself to act as if nothing is wrong.

Once I'm inside the castle, I break into a run, heading straight for Dove's room, praying she's still there and not in the underground cells. I knock loudly on her door, nervously biting my nails. Five times. If she doesn't answer, it's too late.

Dove opens the door, and relief washes over me.

"I'm going to die tomorrow," she says, her voice hollow. I grab her hand, pulling her into her room as I close and lock the door behind me.

"No, you aren't. Now listen to me carefully. Put on pants and a shirt, a coat if you have one, and come with me. We're getting out of here."

"But—"

"We don't have time. Hurry." Ten minutes later, we leave the castle, walking swiftly to the gates, hoping no one realizes what's happening.

After a tense run through the main village, we arrive at the port. Only two boats are left. Neither is the one I chose earlier.

"We must take this one. It's the only one without anyone on it." Dove nods, her face pale with fear. I wish I could reassure her, but there's no time. I help her onto the boat before climbing aboard myself.

Once inside, I quickly find a place to hide. This ship is larger than the first one. It has rooms, but we'd be easily found hiding in the only room, so I lead Dove behind three barrels, hoping my bigger size won't give us away.

It's only after an hour that the boat finally leaves the shore, taking us toward what we hope is a safer life on new ground. It won't be easy. We'll have to change our names, our story, and pretend not to know each other. Maybe Dove will find a man she loves and build a family, but I'm a lost cause. Dove looks at me, her eyes wide with terror as she tries to signal something to me. I only understand when she suddenly sneezes, clapping a hand over her mouth as footsteps approach.

We both freeze, our eyes wide as the white-haired woman from last night appears above the barrels, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Hello, trouble."
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Hey !!! It's just to say a big thank you for the positive comments and the votes on my previous chapters 💕💕 hope you enjoyed this one, and happy Friday!