Daughters of the King |✓|

Chapter Sixteen

To be honest, I didn't have a solid plan beyond getting out of the camp. I didn't know where I was going, as I slid my arms into my jacket and slowly peeled away the wool blankets of my bed. I only knew that I was good at running, and good at being on my own, and that if I made my way back to civilization, I could probably con my way to safety as I'd always done with my mother. But on my own terms, this time.

It was dark inside the hut, no light whatsoever to speak of, but I knew its dimensions well after weeks of living here. I even knew what I was going to say to our guards, if they were awake. I'd tell them I was going to see Bjorn. No doubt, they suspected what was going on between us. Hopefully it was going to be the lie that would help me get away.

I didn't even make it to the door.

"Olya," Gunnar's voice was a whisper, but it still shattered the night.

I froze. His voice was heavy with the sound of betrayal, and I felt guilty. I couldn't help it.

He didn't ask any questions. He knew what I was up to.

"I've given up everything, Olya."

"What for?"

"For you," he said, his tone bitter and full of accusations.

I prickled and turned towards him, found him in the dark as my eyes adjusted. He was sitting up in his cot. I leaned real close to make sure he heard me. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I never asked you for anything."

He didn't argue, didn't defend himself. He just said, "I know."

My temper flared, and I spoke through my teeth, "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to stay," he confessed, and there was a beat of silence before I knew he would try to kiss me.

"Don't," I begged. I'm not even sure why, only that I suddenly couldn't bear the thought of having him kiss me. There would be no going back after that.

He froze, as though I'd given him an actual order. The military in him showed instantly, and he pulled back. No matter what we'd been through, he was still a soldier through and through. In everything he did.

"Stay with me," he tried again. "I've given up everything for you."

I didn't understand why he kept telling me that. I didn't recognize the timber in his voice that revealed what he was really trying to say. Maybe he himself didn't even know the right words to use, and we were doomed to misunderstand each other.

"It's not my fault you're not loyal," I said.

He jerked his head to the side. "I'm loyal," he whispered. "To you."

I still failed to grasp what he was really telling me. It all sounded like nonsense—it all sounded pathetic.

I stood up and said, "Don't follow me."

Then I walked out. The guards were fast asleep when I passed them. Perhaps they did know what was going on between me and Bjorn. Perhaps they thought he had succeeded in seducing me, and they mistook my behavior with him as loyalty. They were being less careful.

They were being idiots.

I chose the direction I knew didn't have huts or animal traps, after weeks of studying the nearby woods. I cut a path through the trees, aiming myself in the direction of the town I'd watched fall to ruins. There might still be some useful things to find—might still have a train passing through.

I walked under the gentle glow of a half moon and counted my steps, calculating the distance I was putting between myself and the camp.

How much further to freedom? How much further to the real world?

As I treaded through the forest, being careful to keep my footsteps silent, I thought of Gunnar and replayed in my mind every word of what he'd just said to me. He had this way of begging that made you hate yourself instead of him. He had the strength to be vulnerable and honest, two things I'd spent my life running away from.

I thought of what would happen to him back at the camp once they discovered I was gone. I'd convinced myself Bjorn would go forth with his plan, with or without me, but deep down, I knew the truth was they would most likely kill him. And I knew that Gunnar knew it too.

And yet, he'd let me go.

He'd given up everything for me, he'd said. He was loyal to me, he'd said. And it was true, wasn't it?

And every step I was taking away from the camp was literally killing him.

I stopped. I looked around at the forest shrouded in shadows, their dark presence pressing into the white of my skin, like a mimic of the guilt wrapping around my heart. My heart. That useless thing thudding in my chest, pounding like a fist against the confines of my ribcage. Was it trying to tell me something? Did it know something I didn't?

I sucked cold air into my lungs, feeling inexplicably breathless. Had I been holding my breath? My lungs felt tight. In fact my whole chest felt like it was tightening painfully.

Without another thought, I whipped around and started back in the direction of the camp as fast as I could.

...

I couldn't help thinking I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve a person like him in my life, and yet I had one. It was an unfamiliar feeling. Soft and sweet, dredged up from the deep uncorrupted parts of my being.

"Olya?" Gunnar's voice split the night.

I'd come back for him. I'd snuck back into the hut, undetected, and now he lifted himself from the cot and sought me out in the darkness.

I stood as far away from him as the hut allowed. "What's wrong with us?"

"I don't know."

"You've made me miserable," I said. "I hardly recognize myself."

"I don't recognize myself, either."

I changed the subject before I could say anything really stupid. We didn't have much time. "The guards are gone."

He jerked visibly. "Gone?"

"Yes. The whole camp is awake. I passed a bunch of people on the way here."

He rubbed his face, like he wasn't sure if he was dreaming. "Why? What's going on?"

"It's Fay," I said. "She's in labor, and everyone's going to meet the baby."

He understood the urgency in my voice—understood what I was trying to say. We had to go. Now. When no one would try to stop us. It was our best chance.

He sprung to action, pulling on his boots and his jacket, shouldering the satchel and grabbing his gun.

Together, we disappearedinto the night.