The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 35

**A/N: Merry Christmas Eve and Happy (almost) Chanukah everyone!**

By the time the sun had crested the horizon, Isabelle and Sam had put miles of road between them and Highcastle. The moon lit their way until the sky turned pink with dawn. They'd stopped as briefly as possible at the Winters' city house, Isabelle remaining in her saddle as Sam sprinted inside. He left further instructions with the men assembled there in case Cedric had any difficulty leaving the palace. When he emerged, a half dozen Umberwood warriors trailed him, hastily tacking and mounting their horses.

"Just in case," Sam said, mounting up beside her once again. Isabelle didn't want to think about what that meant, the urgency to return home clanging through her bones. She didn't care who Sam brought with them, so long as they rode quickly.

And ride quickly they did. The eight of them slipped out the city's northern gate, Isabelle melting back among the other mounted men as Sam demanded they open the gate under the orders of Lord Winters. He showed the guards the summons from his father, which seemed to be sufficient for them to allow eight heavily armed men out of the city in the dead of night.

No one thought to question the smallest among them, her hood still pulled up to hide her face.

They hadn't dared to gallop once they departed the well-lit streets of Highcastle, but the northerners set a gruelling pace nonetheless. When the fatigue from the days' events finally caught up with Isabelle, it was all she could do to keep herself awake in the saddle. The forest around them was quiet, save for the jingling bridles and clanking weaponry of her companions, the din lulling her to sleep. Thoughts of her father swirled around her head as she slipped in and out of consciousness, finally jolting awake as she nearly tipped out of the saddle. Sam was beside her, but the big redhead hid whatever fatigue he might have been feeling.

"Just a little longer, lass," he said. "We can't stop until we're near Dunwood."

"I'll be fine," Isabelle said, unable to stifle her yawn. Sam was right, they couldn't stop until they reached the small village marking Kentshire's border. When the sun finally rose, Isabelle's stomach coiled even tighter.

Her escape would be discovered when the twins woke to discover an empty room, unless that guard had awakened and alerted the others sooner. The thought of being dragged back to Highcastle when she was so close to home sent a wave of nausea rushing through her. She subconsciously glanced backwards, as if she could see the mass of guards the royal family would likely send after her.

But behind her was a wall of muscle. In the dawn light, Isabelle could appreciate why Sam had chosen the six men he had brought with them. They rode in companionable silence, each of them armed to the teeth with battle-hardened looks in their eyes. Most were older than Sam, their keen gazes sweeping the forest around them in an automatic reflex to be on the lookout even as they sat easily in their saddles. Isabelle had the distinct feeling that this was not the first time these men had ridden silently and swiftly through the night.

Turning back towards the road to Kentshire, Isabelle tried to force her thoughts away from the palace and away from the anger and hurt still simmering in her gut. She didn't want to think about the crown prince, about how the thought of him sent twin darts of longing and betrayal through her. Tears prickled in her eyes as she felt the guards' arms closing around her once again, Graham standing there like a finely dressed statue as they dragged her away.

He'd caged her. He'd locked her in her room like some valuable object rather than a living, breathing human being. He hadn't told her about her father, he'd let the king do it instead in a most brutal way. He hadn't even come to check on her...

Blinking back her tears, she focused on her anger instead. He was not who she thought he was. There was no core of kindness under his cruel, arrogant facade. The terrace had meant nothing, just like their almost-kiss over the chessboard. It was all probably a part of Graham's grand plan to blind her to the jaws of the trap closing around her.