A Heart Divided

Chapter 25

The Plan

The lighthouse keeper—whose name was Thomas—kept them hidden for two days, allowing the storm to pass and giving them a brief respite from the chaos that had followed them. Inside, the warm light from the hearth offered some comfort, and the cold, harsh wind outside seemed a distant memory. But Eliza knew better than to let herself grow too comfortable. Danger was still close—maybe closer than they realized.

On the second day of their refuge, Thomas led them into the heart of the lighthouse, where the tall windows overlooked the vast, wild ocean. The storm had passed, but the waves still churned below, as if the sea itself was angry, unwilling to let them go. Eliza stood at the window, gazing out at the horizon, her thoughts a swirling mess.

"What's the plan?" Alden's voice broke through her reverie. She turned to see him standing a few paces behind her, his eyes sharp and intent on the conversation that was about to unfold.

Thomas had a map spread across the table, his finger tracing lines through unfamiliar terrain. He had spoken little since they arrived, but Eliza could see the weight of knowledge behind his calm exterior. This man knew things.

"You're not safe here," Thomas said, looking up at them both. "Your enemies will be searching for you along the coast for days, maybe weeks. But there's a place—a town—a few days' journey inland. If you take the back roads, you might be able to slip through unnoticed."

"Where?" Alden asked, narrowing his eyes.

Thomas's finger hovered over a remote location on the map, a small village tucked away in a narrow valley. The roads were winding and treacherous, but they would be far less traveled than the main routes. "It's called Blackthorn," Thomas said. "It's a quiet place. Not many people go there. The kingdom's eyes are not on it."

Eliza frowned. "But how will we get there? We can't just walk through the countryside unnoticed. The prince's men will be searching for us everywhere."

"That's where I come in," Thomas said, glancing over his shoulder toward the wooden chest near the back of the room. He walked over and opened it, pulling out a small bundle of clothes. He laid it out on the table for them to see.

"They'll be looking for a runaway princess and her companion," he continued. "But no one will be looking for common folk. You'll need to dress the part. I can provide you with new identities."

Alden's eyes flashed with curiosity. "You've done this before?"

Thomas gave a wry smile, but there was no humor in it. "I've helped many people disappear in my time. Some for good reason, others not. But I've learned a thing or two about staying off the radar."

Eliza's heart thudded in her chest. A new identity. She looked down at the clothes—rough-spun cotton and faded linen—a far cry from the silk gowns and fine dresses she had worn just days ago. She had long been confined by the rules and restrictions of her station, but now, everything she had ever known was being torn away from her.

Her father's throne. Her title. Her wealth.

They would be gone, replaced by a new life—one forged in secrecy, and likely danger.

"What's the catch?" Alden asked, his voice cautious but intrigued.

Thomas's gaze was steady. "The catch is that nothing will be easy. You'll be leaving your past behind completely. If anyone finds out who you are, it'll be over. And you'll need to keep moving quickly. Blackthorn is a safe haven for now, but it won't stay that way forever."

Alden turned to Eliza. "What do you think?"

Eliza hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of the map as her mind raced. She could feel the weight of every decision pressing on her. The choices they made now would shape their future—if they even had one. Her future. It had once been so clear, so predictable. But now?

She looked up, meeting Alden's steady gaze. It was her choice. And for the first time, she realized that whatever path they chose, it would be hers to walk alongside him.

"I trust him," she said softly, her voice quiet but firm. "I think it's the only way."

Alden nodded, his expression unreadable. He didn't seem convinced, but he wasn't about to argue. Not now, when they were out of options.