Selected: Part 3 - Love and Lace

11. THE STORM

HAVING A MAID STAY THE night in our room was a very important security measure, as the maids who were assigned as caretakers to the ladies of the Selection had underwent a rigorous training in case of any emergency or situation that may come our way. They were specially trained for rebel attacks in specific, to where they knew every single secret passageway in the palace, from walls that opened to underground tunnels, and most importantly, they were taught what to do in case one of these secret entrances malfunctioned. Moreover, they were trained to be incredibly fast under pressure, faster than I was as I scrambled for my slippers and robe.

When I woke up, it felt as though the rebel alarm had been sounding for more than a few seconds already; I had been sleeping so soundly for once. Had I not stupidly dismissed my maid for the night, Maya would've woken me up the very second it rang, slippers and robe already in hand. And yet, I was so foolish to believe tonight would be better spent alone. I had heard that Agatha and Shannon preferred to sleep without their maids, and this gave me false confidence that I could do the same. It wasn't until I starting feeling for the panel behind my dresser that would open the door leading to the safe-room that the panic set in, though. I touched every part of the wall, just as my maids had shown me, but nothing was opening. I knew there was another passageway in the hall, and before I could wonder whether or not I should take the risk, I turned around to face a dark figure behind me. The person was cloaked in black, armed with a dagger that gleamed under the faint light from my window, and before I could scream, they quickly tied a cloth around my mouth and bound my hands together.

My assailant was rather short and very thin, but they were surprisingly strong and fast. Unlike me, they immediately found the panel on my wall that opened it, and they shoved me to the other side. However, rather than heading down the stairs to the safe-room, they dragged me another way, weapon in one hand, my hair in the other. We reached our destination in a quick, straight line, exiting through another secret doorway as I was pushed to the floor of what seemed to be an old dining room, seeming no longer in use. I was tied to one of the dining chairs, and any struggle from my part was met with with a punch and whispered reprimand from my captor. I could be wrong, but judging from the voice, this rebel was a woman.

My thoughts went into overdrive and I started to fear for my life. Around me, I could hear gunshots, loud thuds, and so much screaming. It was a storm of cries and anguish; perhaps the worst rebel attack yet, though I hadn't thought it possible. I thought of Ethan, wondering if he had made it downstairs on time. And what about Agatha and Shannon; had they been able to reach the safe-room without the assistance of a maid? I stared at the barricaded door, then at the wall which served as a secret door, expecting someone else to enter any second; either another rebel or another captive, or both. But for now, I was alone with my attacker, who was also staring at the doorways, seeming anxious.

Having managed to get the cloth out of my mouth, I dared to speak up. "Why am I here? Are you going to kill me?" I didn't bother whispering, on the off-chance a guard would hear me and come to my aid. I had come close to being killed on one of the last attacks, a knife to my throat, but a guard saved me in time. I never knew rebel attacks could be so bad, and it was surprising the royal family had survived through them all. I understood now more than ever that being a royal of Illéa was an extremely difficult job, a job in which your life was no longer yours, rather it was laid out and risked every day for your people. Nonetheless, this job also gives you the power to change things, and eventually, the rebels would be vanquished for good; I had faith in Ethan to put an end to it all. But could I do it too? For Ethan, I could manage.

"Idiot, if I wanted to kill you, I would've done so in your room. You're the bait." My kidnapper answered, curt and and serious. "The bait? What do you mean?" I prodded further, trying to keep calm as I discreetly looked around the room for a way to escape. "You're his favorite; I've been watching him very closely. If he knows you're in danger, he'll come." I shuddered. "The Prince?" At that, my captor simply nodded. She was trying to lure Ethan into a trap. Knowing the safe-room was too heavily guarded, the rebels had planned to single him out, most likely to kill the only heir to the throne. I had to get out of here, because the worst thing was, this rebel was right. I felt Ethan actually would come here to try to save me, whether I was the favorite or not, and I couldn't let that happen. I was used to people being violent towards me and terrifying situations like this, so I knew to keep as calm as possible, suppressing all my nerves.

"That's not a very smart plan. No way Ethan would come for me; he told me just the other day who he's planning on marrying, and it's not me. This competition is all for show." That wasn't true, of course, but if I could make my captor doubt their brilliant plan, maybe that could help. Moreover, I was now talking as loud as I could, knowing there were guards not too far off. "Keep it down will you!" She turned and kicked me so hard my chair fell to the side. I'd been moving my hands, tugging at the ropes behind my back for awhile now, and this impact helped loosen them even more; it wasn't a very good knot. I laid on the floor, still bound to my chair as she pulled me back up. I'd been moving my feet too, and I felt that if I didn't show it, I could get everything loose enough to escape when she least expect it. To my dismay, she gagged me again, tighter this time.

From my kidnapper's nervous demeanor and pacing around the room, staring at the door, I could deduce she was waiting someone; either for reinforcements or for Ethan. Either way, I was lucky in that this gave me a chance to loosen my bonds to the point where one strong tug would set me free; which is what I needed in order to execute the only idea I had. It wasn't so easy though, as she kept an eye on me, turning from time to time, dagger still in hand, and though I couldn't see her gaze, I knew it was menacing. On one such time, as she was staring right at me, the light from the large dining room window shifted in just the right way, and I was able to see her face under the hood of her baggy coat.

It was dark and rainy out, but there was no mistaking the face I saw, as I saw it almost every day: my captor was none other than Shannon.