Chapter 3: Beyond the Palace Walls

Emilia's POV 

No one came back after that. 

At first, I did not care. I was still angry, still determined to make Kylo regret kidnapping me. But as the light through the cracks in the wall turned orange, my stomach started growling, and I found myself regretting the food I had refused earlier. 

I sat on the only crate that did not wobble, keeping my back straight as I stared at the door. Straw was still caught in the folds of my skirt, so I picked out every piece I could reach and flicked it onto the floor, one after another. 

The lock clicked sometime later, pulling me out of my thoughts. I kept my eyes on the door as it opened, and Dane appeared with both arms full. 

“Hey,” he said carefully. “It’s just me. Please do not stab me with anything.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him, letting my glare say exactly what I thought of that. 

“Okay. Cool. I’ll take that as a no weapons situation.” He set a folded bundle on the crate beside me and placed a covered tray on the floor, then stepped back like I might bite. “These belonged to my sister. They might be a little loose on you, but they’re clean. I figured you’d rather have something comfortable.” 

I looked at the bundle, then back at him, but said nothing. 

“Not talking,” he guessed. “Fair. You’re allowed. I wouldn’t talk either.” 

He crouched beside the tray and lifted the cloth, revealing a few slices of bread, a piece of cheese, and a bowl of thick vegetable stew with steam rising from it. He glanced at the food, then back at me. 

“I know you’re probably used to eating better than this,” he said, almost apologetically. “It’s the best we have right now, though. I hope you can still eat it.” 

The smell was not terrible, which annoyed me because my stomach chose that exact moment to growl. 

Dane pretended not to hear it. I appreciated that and hated that I did. 

“Kylo’s not coming,” he said. “Before you ask. Or, you know, before you think about asking.” 

I had no intention of asking. In fact, I was perfectly happy not to see Kylo again for as long as possible. 

Dane seemed to study my face for a moment before continuing. 

“He’s, uh...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s not in the best mood. He does this. He goes real quiet and stays away from whatever is bugging him until he figures out what to do about it.” 

Whatever was bugging him. I was apparently a thing that bugged people. 

“He’s not a bad guy,” Dane added, his voice softer. “I know you don’t believe that. I wouldn’t either, in your position. But he’s been carrying a lot for a long time.” 

I almost asked what he meant, but stopped myself. Why did I care? Whatever Kylo had been carrying was none of my business. 

Dane noticed anyway. He gave me a small, tired smile. “Eat if you want. Or don’t. I’ll leave it here. I’m not gonna sit and watch you like a dog guarding a bone.” 

He headed for the door, then glanced back at me. “The door will be locked again. It’s not about you. It’s just that people get nervous if it’s left unlocked.” 

“People are nervous about me?” I finally asked, my voice rough from disuse. 

Dane blinked, then gave me a small, awkward smile. “Kind of. You’re the king’s daughter. People here have their reasons for not wanting you around.” 

“I did not do anything to them.” 

“I know,” he said gently. “But your family has.” 

The door closed behind him, and the lock clicked again. 

I waited until his footsteps faded, then unfolded the clothes. A plain brown dress with a cord at the waist. The fabric was rough against my fingers and smelled faintly of smoke and soap. I held it away from me, already deciding that there was no chance I was wearing something that ugly. 

Then I looked down at my wedding gown. Straw was caught in the seams, and there was a tear along the hem. After another few seconds, I realized staying in it was becoming just as uncomfortable as the thought of wearing that awful dress. 

With a sigh, I started pulling out the buttons. 

It took a long time. The dress had forty-two buttons down the back, and Odette had done every one of them that morning. I had to twist my arms around in ways that hurt just to reach the top ones. By the time the gown finally dropped to the floor, I was sweating and furious and a little ashamed, because I had never dressed myself before. 

The brown dress was too big in the shoulders and too short in the sleeves. I tied the cord tight and looked down at myself. 

I looked like a servant. 

I stood there for a second with my arms hanging at my sides, and something inside me twisted in a way I did not want to look at. I pushed the feeling away and glanced toward the tray Dane had left behind. 

I was hungry. Really hungry. 

But I was not desperate enough to trust them yet. 

Dane had been kind, but that did not mean I was stupid enough to forget what he had just told me. The people here hated my family. They had every reason to resent me, and I had no idea what they might have put in that bowl. 

Father would come for me soon. He had soldiers, scouts, and an entire kingdom at his command. There was no way he would let these rebels keep me for long. 

All I had to do was sit there and not eat anything until they showed up. 

Simple enough. 

Except I had never been good at waiting. 

The light outside slowly faded, and I started wondering how I was supposed to escape when I heard voices outside. Laughter. Someone banging on something that sounded like a drum. Then a cheer went up from somewhere across the camp. 

Were they having a party? 

Seriously? 

I almost wanted to thank whoever had decided tonight was a good night to celebrate. 

If everyone was busy with a party, they would not be watching me. 

It was the perfect opportunity. 

I skipped the door and went straight to the walls, running my fingers over the old gray wood as I searched for a weak spot. In some places, it was soft enough to crumble beneath my touch. The back corner, hidden behind a stack of crates, looked the worst. The planks were darker there, and the bottom one had a long split running through it. 

I dragged the crates aside, ignoring the splinters digging into my palms, then dropped to my knees and pressed both hands against the plank. 

It shifted. 

Just a little, but it shifted. 

"Yes," I breathed. 

I needed something to pry it open. My eyes landed on the pin I had dropped earlier, half buried in the dirt near the wall. I crawled over, grabbed it, and went back to the plank. Then I wedged the thin end into the split and pulled. 

Nothing happened. 

I tried again, harder, and the pin bent. I swore under my breath and straightened it against my knee as best I could. On the third try, the wood groaned. On the fourth, a long piece snapped off with a crack so loud that I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs. 

I listened. 

The music outside did not stop. Nobody shouted. 

I let out a shaky breath and kept going. 

It took a long time. My fingernails tore, and a splinter dug deep into the heel of my hand. I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. By the time the gap was wide enough for me to squeeze through, my arms were trembling and sweat was running down my back. 

I pressed my cheek against the cold dirt and squeezed through the opening. The hem of the ugly brown dress caught on a splinter and ripped as I crawled out. 

For once, I did not care. 

I pushed myself to my feet and brushed the dirt from my knees. Then I moved around the side of the building, keeping close to the wall, and stopped dead. 

There was no village. 

I had expected houses. Fences, maybe a main road with guards stationed along it. Instead, I found a wide, open field lit by lanterns, filled with more tents than I could count. They were patched and uneven, pitched in rough rows across the field. There were dozens of them. Smoke rose from the cook fires between them, and every tent seemed to be surrounded by people. 

The building I had been locked in was the only real structure in the whole place. 

They had put me in the one place I could not easily leave. Of course they had. 

In the middle of the field, a long table stretched from one end to the other. It was not made of polished oak, just rough planks laid over trestles, and no two chairs matched. Some people sat on barrels. Others sat on the ground. A man was standing on his bench, telling a story with his arms thrown wide, and the entire table was laughing. 

I had never heard anyone laugh like that at a dinner. 

At my table, nobody laughed. We ate quietly and passed the salt when asked. Father spoke, and everyone else answered when it was their turn. I had been taught which fork to use before I could read. If my elbow touched the table, Mother would look at me, and that look was worse than any scolding. 

Here, a little girl sat on a man's shoulders, feeding him bread with her fingers. Two women danced barefoot near the fire, spinning each other around without caring who watched. An old man tried to join them and nearly fell over, and everyone cheered for him anyway. 

Bowls were passed from one person to another. Nobody waited to be served. If someone's cup was empty, the person beside them filled it. When a boy dropped his plate, three people immediately bent down to help him pick it up, and no one called him clumsy. 

I stood in the dark with my back against a tent pole, feeling something strange settle in my chest. 

They like each other... 

It was a stupid thing to think. Of course they did. But I had never seen anything like this before. 

In the palace, people were polite because they were afraid of someone. Here, they sat close together because they wanted to. 

I spotted Dane at the far end of the table, pouring something from a large jug into everyone's cups. He was talking the whole time, and from the look on his face, I could tell he was in the middle of a joke. A woman smacked his arm, laughing, and he pretended to be offended. 

Then I saw Kylo. 

He was sitting at the corner of the table, a little apart from everyone else. People were talking around him, and a man beside him said something and nudged his shoulder. Kylo nodded, but I could tell he had not heard a word. 

He was not smiling. He stared down into his cup like the answer to something might be at the bottom of it. His jaw was tight, and one hand was wrapped around the cup while his thumb rubbed the same spot on the rim over and over. 

I knew that look. 

Father wore it at the head of the table whenever a report came in that he did not like. He would go still and quiet, and the whole room would pretend not to notice. Mother used to tell me not to ask him about it. She said a king carried things that a princess did not need to carry. 

I had never wondered what those things were. 

I looked away quickly, annoyed that I had been watching him for so long. What did I care what he was thinking about? He was probably planning what to do with me. Or what to do with my father’s head. 

Move, Emilia! 

Everyone was distracted. The back of the field was dark, and beyond the last row of tents, I could see where the grass ended and the trees began. If I moved slowly, kept low, and stayed out of the lantern light, I could make it. 

I pushed away from the tent pole and started walking, only to immediately bump into something solid. 

Something small yelped. 

I looked down. 

A boy was sitting on the ground in front of me, a wooden lantern rolling away from his hand. He could not have been more than seven. His hair stuck up in every direction, and there was a smear of something dark across his chin. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly. Then his eyes went wide. “Wait. You’re her.” 

I stared at him. “I’m who?” 

“The princess!” He scrambled to his feet, grinning like I had just given him a present. “You look just like Dane said. You’re really pretty. Are you real? Can I touch your hair?” 

“Keep your voice down.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” I grabbed his shoulder, glanced toward the table, and lowered my voice to a hiss. “Quiet. Please.” 

He covered his mouth with both hands and nodded, then peeked up at me over his fingers. After a second, he lowered them and whispered, although his idea of whispering was still much too loud. 

“Sorry. I’m Pip. Where are you going, princess?” 

“Nowhere.” 

“You’re going toward the trees.” His forehead scrunched up. “Kylo said everybody has to keep an eye on you. He said you have to stay inside, and if you come out, we tell him right away.” 

I closed my eyes. 

Of course he had. 

“Pip,” I said slowly, opening them again. “How old are you?” 

“Seven and three quarters.” 

“Right. Seven and three quarters.” I forced my voice to stay calm, even though my heart was pounding. “Do you like sweets?” 

His whole face lit up. “Candy?” 

“Candy.” 

“I love candy. I haven’t had any since the harvest festival, and that was ages ago. Dane says we can’t afford it...” He stopped himself and looked at me suspiciously. “Why?” 

I reached up and unhooked the pearl earring from my left ear. It was small, but real, and probably worth more than this whole camp had spent on food in a week. I held it out on my palm. 

His mouth fell open. 

“You can sell this,” I said. “You could buy a whole bag of candy. Maybe two. Probably more than you could eat.” 

“Is that real?” 

“Yes.” 

He looked from the earring to me. “Why are you giving it to me?” 

“Because I need you to do something for me.” I crouched until we were eye level. “I need you to forget you saw me. Go back to the table, sit down, and do not say a word. Can you do that?” 

Pip stared at the earring, then at the table where everyone was still laughing. 

“Kylo will be mad,” he said quietly. 

“Kylo is always mad.” 

A snort escaped him, and he quickly covered his mouth. When he lowered his hand, he looked at me with something that almost resembled sympathy. 

“Is it because you don’t want to be here?” 

The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. 

“I wouldn’t want to be here either,” Pip said simply. “If I was locked up. It’s not fun.” 

“No,” I said quietly. “It is not.” 

He took the earring and held it with both hands like it might break. Then he nodded, very serious, the way a soldier might. 

“I never saw you,” he said. 

“Good boy.” 

I picked up the lantern from the grass. 

“I’m borrowing this,” I said. 

“Okay.” He hesitated. “Princess?” 

“What?” 

“Nobody goes into the woods at night. Not even Dane. Not even Kylo unless he has to.” His voice dropped. “There are wolves.” 

I looked toward the line of trees. They were black against the night, tall and dense, with the lantern light barely reaching the first row of trunks. 

My stomach clenched, and the ache behind my eyes pulsed again. 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“But, Princess...” 

“Go eat, Pip.” 

I did not wait for him to argue. I turned my back on the camp and walked toward the trees, holding the lantern out in front of me. 

Behind me, the laughter continued. Nobody seemed to notice I was gone. 

I told myself that was a good thing. 

The forest swallowed the light almost immediately. Within a dozen steps, the music faded to a dull thump, and within fifty, it was gone. All I could hear were my footsteps and the creak of branches overhead. 

I walked faster. My legs felt light and unsteady, and the uneven ground was full of roots. I tripped twice, dropping to one knee the second time as the lantern swung wildly, throwing shadows across the trees. 

“Get up,” I whispered. “Get up. Keep moving.” 

I pushed myself up and kept going. 

I had no idea which direction I was taking, but it did not matter. Any road would lead somewhere, and any village would have a guard who would recognize the crown’s seal. I just had to find one. 

By the tenth minute, or maybe the twentieth, my head was swimming. My hands had gone numb around the lantern handle, my mouth was dry, and swallowing hurt. 

Should have eaten the stupid bread. 

I leaned against a tree to catch my breath and closed my eyes for just a second. 

A branch snapped somewhere to my left. 

I went still. 

Another snap. Then a low, wet breath. 

I opened my eyes slowly. The lantern light caught two glints in the dark, about the height of my waist. Then two more beside them. Then a third pair, farther back. 

Something growled, and it was not a sound I had ever heard in the palace. 

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no." 

The first shape stepped into the light. Gray fur, narrow head, lips peeled back from teeth far too long. It was close enough that I could smell it. 

I stepped back, caught my heel on a root, and fell. 

The lantern hit the ground and tipped over. Its flame guttered as the wolves moved closer, while white spots crowded my vision. 

I tried to scream, but nothing came out. 

Cold, damp earth met my cheek as the world tilted. The biggest wolf lowered its head toward me. 

Then a voice cut through the darkness. 

"Emilia!" 

Boots pounded over the roots. 

With the last of my strength, I realized it was the first time he had ever said my name. 

Then everything went black.