Heist of Hearts

“Feast your eyes, Elara.” Hester nodded at King Rath. Upon his head sat the Crow’s Crown. Gold accents clung to the edges and curved into four talons at the top. More rubies than I could count flashed in the sunlight pouring through the windows ringing the top of the throne room. 

Tonight we planned to steal it. 

“Is the rest of the plan ready to go?” I asked, stepping aside for a sheep farmer as he took his turn to complain to the king and his son about griffins eating his flock. Hester nodded, slipping his hand into a pouch at his belt and withdrawing a small, silver key. I palmed it, glancing around to make sure no one noticed. They didn’t. All the townsfolk shifted from foot to foot, waiting impatiently for the sheep farmer to hurry up and finish so they could air their own grievances. 

“May your bread rise.” Hester pulled his hat low and melted into the crowd. I adjusted my servant’s smock and sidled through the packed throne room, keeping one eye on the royals. 

King Rath slumped in his throne, eyes glazed over as the farmer droned on. Prince Raiden sat forward, his dumb hair curling over his forehead, his head cocked just so, listening with rapt attention. I glared at him. He was the reason we had to resort to stealing the crown. 

If he hadn’t ordered all our crops burned, we wouldn’t be starving, wouldn’t be without money, wouldn’t owe the tax collector. I reached the wall, and sitting on the ground behind a suit of armor was a bucket of soapy water and a brush. Using my foot, I inched it out, then dropped to my knees to scrub the floor. 

In less than an hour, the commoners would clear out. Then the royals would head into a tiny door at the back of the room, situated behind the thrones. They'd come out crownless and without cloaks, heading back out the main doors. 

At least, that was what happened the last five times they held a grievance meeting. 

Only two people remained when the hour was up. King Rath waved at a servant to escort them out, then stood, stretching his arms. Prince Raiden glared at him and stepped in his path. An argument ensued, but both were too aware of those still left in the room. Me, a couple of guards, and another servant standing at attention. The entire argument took place in whispers as they entered the back room. 

Now all I had to do was wait. Sometimes they took five minutes, sometimes fifteen. I threw my brush in the bucket and shifted positions to better see the door, but just as I picked my spot, the main door crashed open. One of the guards escorted a sneering noble in my direction, and I had no choice but to stop in front of the throne, my view completely blocked. The second guard kept his position at the door, staring at me with an expression of extreme boredom. 

Moments later, they all burst out of the tiny door. I craned my head to match voices with faces, but didn’t want to be caught staring by the remaining guard, so I dropped my gaze back to my scrubbing. My hands had cracked from being so dry, and the soap stung them, but it was the last night. I’d never have to do it again, so I kept on scrubbing. The group came into view as they rounded the thrones and tramped toward the main door, not even glancing in my direction. I watched them through my long hair, seeing just enough to track them. The second guard followed them out and shut the door. 

I sighed in relief as I dropped the brush back into the bucket. They’d be angry when they discovered the floors only half scrubbed in the morning, but I bet they’d forget when they went for their crowns. 

The other servant had already slipped out when I wasn’t paying attention. I was alone. Most nights, I worked in silence, with only the scratching of the brush for company. Tonight, I didn’t even have that to cover up the click of the tiny door as I turned my copy of the key in the keyhole.

I slipped through the door, closing it behind me. The room was small, with books and scrolls covering the walls. A jewel encrusted sword hung on a wall mount next to me. The crowns lay on a pedestal in the middle of the room, but I didn’t come close to them, because standing before me was Prince Raiden. 

A yelp escaped my lips, and I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep the scream inside. A dark scowl had adorned his face, but it melted into bewilderment when he realized I wasn’t the king. I had a split second to make a decision, and reached for the door handle. I could run now, hoping I made it out before the guards caught me, but then everyone would know my face and we would have to restart with more security in place. Or…

I grabbed the sword and closed the distance between me and Raiden in three quick steps. 

“Wait, stop!” He barely had time to drop the book he held and throw up his hands before I slammed the pommel into his temple. The prince’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he dropped like a stone. With only seconds to subdue him, I pulled my dagger from my thigh sheath and sliced through the bottom of my smock, wadding part of the material to stick in his mouth, and using the rest to secure it. I cut a second piece off and tied his hands behind his back just as he groaned and his eyelids fluttered. 

My heart caught up with my actions, beating furiously in my chest as I sagged against the shelves, staring at the crime I committed. No way knocking out and tying up the prince wasn’t death by hanging immediately. 

“What did I do?” I whispered, raking my hair from my face. The crown was right there. I could steal it and run, but just then Raiden opened his eyes, and they widened as he realized his situation. His perfect hair stuck up on one side now, his silk shirt rumpled. I reminded myself this was the man who starved us, and I used that anger to harden my resolve and made a decision. 

I flipped the dagger, pointing it in his face as he sat up. His eyes crossed, trying to keep the point in sight, a muffled whimper escaping the gag. 

“If you follow my instructions, you will live. If not…” I let the threat linger. Could I actually kill him? Probably not, but he didn’t need to know that. Raiden's eyes widened as he nodded, but didn't move them from the dagger. 

Sweat dripped down my temple, but I wiped it away before he noticed and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. Keeping hold of his muscular arm, I tried not to think of how muscular, I shoved him toward the door, keeping him close as I peeked out. The room was still empty. If the rest of the plan went smoothly, no one else should bother us. 

Raiden swayed as I led him out and locked the door, his face had lost all color. I kept glancing back at him as we hurried through the throne room. The bump on the head must have made him woozy. He couldn't be that scared of me. Either way, each step I took without getting caught wracked up my nerves, especially when I pulled open the main doors out of the throne room. 

This was the part of the plan where everything could fall apart. Even with the distraction in place, anyone could be in the main corridor. I listened through the crack in the door, but heard nothing. 

“Don’t make a sound,” I hissed through my teeth, and poked Raiden with the tip of my dagger. He nodded frantically. We took the main hall at a run, racing toward the servant’s door on the right. It was tiny compared to the huge double doors leading into the great hall next to it. 

We were still several strides away when voices echoed from around the corner. Raiden tugged toward them, but I pressed the blade against his back, drawing a dot of blood. He stiffened, resigning himself to the kidnapping. I threw open the door and shoved him inside, keeping my head down as I walked purposely through. The owners of the voices turned the corner as I pulled it shut. 

I pressed my ear against the door on the other side, but all was quiet. My disguise was enough to fool them this time. I allowed myself a moment of relief before turning back to Raiden. The path was straightforward from here. Follow the servant’s hall until the kitchens, turn right when the kitchen staff cleared out, turn left at the next fork, and the servant’s exit would be at the end of the corridor. 

The plan went better than expected until we got to the kitchens. Chefs and their help ran back and forth through the halls, supplies in hand. We stood in an alcove of a closed door. I put my hand with the dagger on Raiden’s chest to keep him from stepping out while I peered around the corner. 

“Use the rolls for the morning, we’ll put more in later!” a woman shouted out the kitchen doors. A boy running past dropped a bundle of rags and dashed toward us to do her bidding. I jerked backwards and pressed my back to the door. We were in the shadows, but by no means hidden if the boy paid attention. I prayed to the Rogue to help keep us concealed and pressed the knife to Raiden’s side again, just to remind him not to do anything stupid. He didn’t, and the boy was too busy muttering to himself to notice us. 

“Stupid nobles. Who comes this late and expects food to be ready right away?”

I peeked around the corner again. Only a couple of people still ran through the halls, but that wasn’t good enough. No one could see the prince and me together. Taking him instead of the crown made things a lot more complicated. I grimaced. 

“Don’t move til I say so,” I said, staring him down. Fear shone in his eyes as he glanced at the dagger and the people in the hall. 

“I’m not gonna hurt ‘em, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I sheathed the dagger.

Raiden’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. I jumped out of my hiding spot and raced down the hall waving my arms frantically. “Fire! In the kitchens!”

All four servants stopped and stared. 

“What are you waiting for, get in there and help put it out!” I cried. 

One narrowed her eyes at me, but the other three grabbed her arms and pulled her through the kitchen doors. 

“Now!” I called as loud as I dared, gesturing at Raiden. For just a moment, I thought he had run, but then his face appeared around the corner, and some of the stress fell from my shoulders. We sprinted the rest of the way, avoiding any more kitchen staff, and when I rammed through the last door and into fresh air, a weight dropped from my shoulders. 

This door led to the fruit and vegetable gardens, giving the kitchen staff easy access to fresh food. The air was humid, but cool at night, and the sweet smell of overripe fruit floated to us on the breeze. 

It took longer to navigate the garden beds than I would have liked, but clouds had covered the moon, and the only light was above the door we just vacated. At the back of these gardens was the gate into the flower garden. Someone had conveniently forgotten to lock it. On the other side, Hester waited in the shadows, and when I opened it, he stepped out. 

“Did you—oh no.” He stopped and stared at Raiden. “Elara, what did you do?”

“There was a slight hiccup in the plan. We need to get outta here before someone notices.”

“No, this is a pinch of salt too far. We can’t kidnap the prince!” Hester squeaked. 

“I just did! And now we’ve gotta go,” I said, trying to reflect the urgency in my tone. “I didn’t have a choice. The plan doesn’t have to change, in fact, it might work better this way.”

Hester rubbed his face. “Selma won’t like it, but there’s no going back now. Come on.” 

We made our way through the gardens to the back wall. Raiden made noises through his gag, but I ignored him, already sure of what he wanted to say. There was no way out this direction. The closest gate out of here was back around toward the front of the castle. 

Except it wasn’t strictly true. At the base of a fountain with a centaur shooting a bow was a trap door. The prince gasped through his gag, which sent him into a coughing fit. 

“For the love of…” I pushed Raiden down the steps and into the tunnel. Hester came last, pulling it shut and lighting a torch. 

As soon as Raiden caught his breath, I unsheathed my dagger and pointed it at him. “Are you gonna keep your mouth shut? Or do I have to keep that gag in?” 

He nodded. 

“If you raise your voice even a little, Hester hits a lot harder than I do.”

He nodded again. 

“Okay.” I slid the blade under the fabric and sliced it. Raiden shook his head and spit out the gag, spitting and coughing again. I bet it tasted like old dirt and soap. Made me smile. 

“Here.” Hester picked up a bag sitting against the wall and pulled out two cloaks. “Put this on him. As long as he keeps his cake-hole shut, no one should recognize him.”

Raiden did as he was told and stood still while I flung the cloak around his shoulders and pulled the hood over his head. It fell to mid-calf, but at least it covered his expensive clothes. We were halfway through the tunnel when Raiden spoke in the quietest of whispers.

“How long has this been here?”

“Since the grape prohibition, most likely,” Hester said. 

“The prohibition…” Raiden fell silent again, unease written on his face. No one said another word as we clambered from the secret tunnel into the cellar of the butcher’s closest to the castle. Hester’s family owned the place, and had found the tunnel when they first bought it. From there, we went out the backdoor and hurried down alley’s until we came to a ramshackle house on the edge of the Eastern Quadrant. 

Hester knocked three times, paused and knocked twice more. The door flung open, and we hurried into a tiny kitchen. 

“Thank Felix and the Rogue. You made it.” Selma released a breath and squeezed my arm. “But who’s this?”

Hester grimaced. She didn’t miss the look. Selma rarely missed much. 

“What happened?” 

I tugged Raiden’s hood off, and he smiled sheepishly, like it was his fault we kidnapped him. Selma blanched and stumbled backwards. “By the gods, Elara. When I said steal the crown, I was talking literally, not metaphorically.”

“Steal the crown? Is that what you were doing?” Raiden asked, then clapped his hands over his mouth. 

“I know, I know,” I said, ignoring him. “But this way, Rath can’t petition for a new son like he could with the crown. In fact, we can even set the ransom higher!” 

Selma paced back and forth before collapsing into a kitchen chair, rubbing her temples. “We didn’t need a higher ransom. All I wanted was to collect the money this idiot owes us.” She waved her hand at Raiden, who scowled. 

“What could I have possibly done to owe rebels money?”

“You burned all our crops!” I seethed, hands curling into fists. Selma shot me a look, and I clamped my mouth shut and sat down opposite her, tapping my foot. The adrenaline from our flight had nowhere to go now that we were back. 

Raiden shook his head. “Burned your crops? I would never…” he trailed off as a realization hit him.

“We aren’t part of the rebellion,” Selma said, standing and poking Raiden in the chest. “But we aren’t your friends either. That stunt cost us our stores for the winter. People are starving. A child died yesterday because we didn’t have anything to feed her.”

Selma barely reached Raiden’s chest, but in this moment, she towered above him. 

“I never meant for any of that to happen,” Raiden cowed beneath the older woman’s stare. “I was trying—”

“No one cares what you were trying to do, my prince. People are dying, and will continue to do so if we can’t get food enough to feed them. Hester, take him to the cellar until we figure out what to do.”

“Wait, I can—”

“Quiet, Prince! I will give you the decision myself.”

Raiden didn’t push the issue, and allowed Hester to lead him downstairs. I said nothing. Tension settled over the room like a fog as Selma paced the length of the rug. Only when Hester returned did she take a deep breath and sit. 

“Okay. Everything will work out. Did anyone see you and Raiden together, Elara?”

“No, not that I’m aware.”

“Good, good. If we send a prayer to Felix, we may get lucky enough the ruse will hold until morning. Hester, work on changing the hostage note. I’ll take it to my contact tomorrow before dawn. Elara, get some sleep, and whatever happens, do not leave.”

After giving her my word, I climbed the stairs to my room, a bone aching exhaustion catching up to me. I barely made it to bed before dropping off to sleep. 

***

Tap tap tap.

“Shut up,” I mumbled at the cat scratching at the door. 

Tap tap tap.

I growled and threw my pillow at the door, and it rattled. Sleep grabbed hold of my consciousness, pulling me back in when—

Tap tap tap. 

“Curse that cat!” I jumped up and threw open the door. But there was no cat. 

Tap tap tap. 

Now that I was awake, the tapping obviously hadn’t been at the door. I followed it through the otherwise silent house. Several hours must have elapsed, but I was so tired, I hadn’t even noticed I slept. The tapping led me to the cellar. 

I rapped on the door. “Be quiet in there! I can’t sleep with all that tapping.”

“Elara! That’s your name, right? Please, I must talk to you.”

“But I don’t wanna talk to you. Go back to sleep.” I turned to walk away when he pounded on the door. 

“If you send that ransom note, you will all die!”

I stopped. Normally, I wouldn’t listen to a prisoner, but he had been oddly complacent. “What’re you talking about?”

“My father, the king—”

“Yes, I’m well aware who your father is.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door. 

“No, I don’t think you are. He’s not the caring king people make him out to be. Remember the invasion a couple of years ago? He orchestrated it. Hired an entire company of sellswords anonymously to attack Summerfell and used his army to fight them off.”

“I don’t believe it. Not only did you deny us food, you protested our protection.”

“No, Elara, please. I was attempting to make my father call off the sellswords! No one needed to die.”

A finger of dread wiggled in my chest. King Rath wasn’t perfect by any means, but ruthless? He had never been that. 

“I had a reason to burn those crops. My father had them poisoned. They would have killed anyone who ate them. I’m sorry for the problems I caused because of it, I didn’t realize how many a single field fed.”

My head swam. Poisoned? I had to steady myself against the wall. 

“Elara? Are you still there?” Raiden’s voice was barely discernible through the door.

“Yes,” I whispered, then cleared my throat and said louder, “Why? For what purpose?”

“The rebels. Whenever the population grows too large and becomes restless, my family culls them. Look through the history books. Once every generation or two, something happens. A plague, a war, a fire. Kills off an entire quadrant before it's contained.”

I rested my head against the door, closing my eyes and breathing deep. If it’s true, then a kidnapping would give the king ample reason to wage war on us. 

“Elara?”

Mom lived here. Dad. My little brother. I pushed off the door and ran to Selma’s room, pounding on it. “Selma, wake up!”

“What are you doing?” Hester poked his head out of his room, rubbing his eyes. “She’s gone.”

“Already?” A wave of fear crashed through me. 

“What’s wrong? It’s almost dawn, she left an hour ago, as per the plan.”

My mind raced. Maybe Raiden was lying. It was easy to check. 

“Hester, I need you to find Ebony.”

“The alchemist?”

“Yes, the alchemist! Tell them I need a test of the roots.”

“I’ve had two hours of sleep, can’t this wait till after breakfast?”

I almost screamed. “No, it absolutely cannot wait until breakfast. I have to check something else. Come on, Hester, this is between life and death.”

“Okay, okay. Give me a minute,” he grumbled, shutting the door. I waited outside, tapping my foot until he reappeared. 

“What am I asking them to test for?” he asked, pulling on a cloak. 

“Poison.”

“Poison?”

I glared at him. 

“I’m going, but you owe me a pastry from the market.”

“Whatever, if I’m right, you’ll be thanking me.”

He rolled his eyes and slipped out the door. I headed for Selma’s library. It wasn’t big, but she had an entire shelf dedicated to history. Gathering as many as I could hold, I tottered to the chair in the corner and sat them on the desk. Each one I flipped through had at least one instance of a quadrant suffering a major tragedy. At first, it seemed random. One here, another there. It wasn’t until I started looking at rebel uprisings and population numbers that a pattern shone through. 

The last census pushed the population to the most in a century. I didn’t have to look up rebel uprisings. Rumors of a secret organization planning to topple the king had run rampant for several years now. 

Slowly, I closed the book and sat back. Raiden was right, so far. If Ebony’s tests came back positive…I didn’t want to think about what that would mean. If our death wasn’t set before, it would be now. 

The kitchen door crashing open scared me out of my thoughts. I ran out of the library to find Hester pale faced and breathing hard. 

“Positive?” I asked. 

“Positive.”

“No!” I slammed my fist against the table. “We’re dead, Hester. Gone forever. Burned to a crisp, run through by swords, eaten by a million bloodthirsty crows. Who knows?!”

“But why? Who poisoned them?” 

“I’ll let him explain.” 

Hester furrowed his brow as I stood and went to the cellar door, opened it, and flung myself back into the chair, my face in my hands. The stairs creaked as Raiden walked up cautiously. 

“Tell Hester what you told me.”

Raiden did, and Hester’s frown deepened the more he revealed. 

“We are safe for now. The ransom note will give Father my location, and he won’t touch the quadrant where I’m being held.”

“What do we do, then? Selma has delivered the letter to her contact by now, and if what you say is true, then Elara is right. We might as well hang ourselves now and get it over with.” 

I had never seen Hester so scared before. He didn’t even reference food. The first rays of the morning sun crept across the kitchen floor and up our legs while we dwelled on the predicament. Without a word, we had agreed to wait for Selma to return. But as time dragged by, the nervous tension in the room grew. I tapped my fingers on the counter, staring at the door, but it was too much. 

“She should’ve been back by now.” I shoved my chair as I stood, knocking it over, and paced the length of the room. Raiden stood it back up and pushed it in. 

“How are we going to look for her? We have no idea who her contact is, or where they were meeting,” Hester said, drinking the tea Raiden had made as we waited. 

“We can’t just do nothing. I’m going out to look for her.” I grabbed a cloak and tied it around my shoulders, pulling the hood low. 

“I’ll stay with the hostage, then.” Hester didn’t look happy, but he didn’t object. 

“Actually, I’ll go with Elara. If there’s something—”

“Absolutely not. You’re our hostage. Nice as you may be right now, we can’t afford to trust you won’t just run back to Daddy.”

Raiden scowled. “If it saves your life, would that be such a bad thing?”

Hester opened his mouth, then closed it again. I counted five different expressions cross his face before he muttered, “Let me get my cloak.”

We found Raiden a bigger cloak and ducked out of the house together. First, we stopped at the message board. Nothing new since the information on next week's Harvest Festival. Several kids pointed at it, giggled with excitement, and ran off. 

They were the only ones. The morning crowd usually meandered easily through the streets, talking to friends and neighbors while heading to work or the market. No one spoke to each other today, except for in hurried whispers. No one wandered, no one laughed. Everyone kept their heads ducked as they rushed through their errands. 

“Something’s wrong,” I muttered. 

Raiden glanced around and leaned close. “This isn’t normal?”

“Not even close. Why would you think that?” Hester asked. 

“It’s how everyone at court acts,” Raiden said with a shrug. 

I glanced over  seeing him in a new light. He even looked better after the kidnapping and imprisonment, more like a normal person, like one of us. 

“Come on, let's head toward the castle,” I said. It sat on an incline overlooking the four quadrants. The closer we walked, the hazier the air became. 

“Does it smell like smoke to you guys?” Hester asked, sniffing the air. 

“I wonder where it's coming from.” I glanced around, spotting a ladder leaning against a house. “Let’s find out.”

Raiden and Hester clambered up behind me. We stood transfixed. Plumes of black smoke rose from the Southern Quadrant just beyond the castle. A lump formed in my throat. I had friends there too, and my aunt. 

“Um, guys?” Raiden pointed. I tore my eyes away from the catastrophe and followed his finger. My knees buckled. I would have fallen if Raiden hadn't caught me. Tears blurred my eyes as my mind tried to wrap around the sight before me. 

Selma hung from the side of the castle, crows already circling her body. 

I clutched Raiden’s arm, a sob building in my chest. “We have to help her, have to get her down.”

“We can’t, Elara! We need to run,” Hester cried, his eyes rimmed with red. 

“Then go!” I screamed, nails digging into Raiden’s shirt. “At least warn my family before you go.”

He glared at me as he mounted the ladder. “There’s nothing we can do. I’ll be at Roach’s in Otterton if you make it out.” And he left. 

“Raiden, we have to get her down, we can’t leave her like that,” I sobbed. He pulled me to his chest, holding me close. 

“I agree. No one deserves such a death.”

I pulled away from him, angrily wiping my eyes. “We can’t let your father get away with this. Enough with the slaughter.”

He grabbed my hands and caught my eye, his gaze intent. “I know you have no reason to, and I understand if you’d rather go your own way, but can you give me your trust?”

Dirt and grime from the cellar smudged his left cheekbone, and his once perfect hair stood up in all the wrong directions. The man I had grown up despising was not the man standing before me now. These eyes were kind, and a deep sadness darkened them. 

I couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away. A breeze blew my hair across my face, bringing with it the acrid smell of smoke, reminding me I had a job to do. “I trust you.” 

A radiant smile spread across Raiden’s face.

“Then come with me. I have an idea.”

We clambered down the ladder, pulling our hoods low over our heads, and Raiden held out a hand. Uncertainty led me to hesitate for just a moment, but I reminded myself to trust him and grabbed it.  

“Every quadrant has a border guard,” Raiden said as we ran through the city, dodging the panicking populace. “They stop whatever disaster the king sets on the city. If we can incapacitate even one, they’ll panic.”

“How does that help us?”

“Because—” we slid to a stop at the quadrant border as Raiden peered through the smoke, “—Father will dispatch a border guard from the castle to replace it or risk the fire spreading farther than he intends.” He steered us toward a small, unmarked building where two guards with red cloaks milled about, looking rather calm despite the raging fire. 

I’m not exactly sure when respect and a certain fondness entered the equation that was Raiden and me, but when he ran full tilt into the guards with me at his side rather than telling me to stay put, I could no longer deny it was there. 

The border guards saw us too late. Raiden slammed his shoulder into the tallest one, knocking him into the wall of the building. My dagger was already in my hand as I slid into the second guard’s personal space and held it to his neck. I didn’t dare take my eyes off him, so it was only after Raiden knocked out his guard out, stripped him of his bow and arrows, and slung them over his shoulder, did he tell me what happened. After revealing himself, the other guard just stood there as we ran back toward the castle. 

“By exposing the castle to the fire, are we flushing out the king?” I asked between sharp breaths. The stitch in my side hurt, and the worsening smoke stung my eyes and throat. 

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Raiden threw me a quick smile, and my stomach flipped. “He’ll evacuate on the north side. I’ll be able to confront him in front of everyone and hopefully end this madness.”

Flames already danced dangerously close to the south wall of the castle, but we followed the curve until they were out of sight. I avoided looking upward toward Selma’s body when we ran beneath and squeezed Raiden’s hand for reassurance.

We rounded the corner and ran into a horde of people covered in ash and smelling like smoke. They crowded around the northern entrance to the castle, pushing and shoving as each tried to be next inside. 

“I don’t think we’re getting in this way,” I said, standing on my toes to better see the swarm between us and the door. 

Raiden tapped the man in front of us on the shoulder. He wore three scarves despite the heat and carried a basket full of random household items: a wooden spoon, some dried herbs, a toy horse. 

“I’m not moving from my spot!” he cried, hugging his basket and shuffling closer to the people in front of him. 

“My good sir, your prince has arrived.”

The man glanced around fearfully, then scowled. “No need to scare a man like that. Get on, both of you, and wait your turn.” He turned his back on us. 

Raiden stood stunned, mouth working, unable to speak. Through the adrenaline and fear, a giggle escaped my throat. 

“You’ve lost your princely visage underneath the dirt and ash,” I said, licking my thumb and smearing away the smudge on his cheek. 

“I’m not scary,” he muttered, a blush flushing his neck. 

I patted the same cheek. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get inside. Is there another way?”

“You mean you don’t know another secret entrance?” A sly smile crept over his face. 

A crying child ran behind me, his mother chasing after him and shoving me. I tripped into Raiden and he caught me, wrapping an arm around my waist and whisking me away from the crowd. 

“That was the only one, I’m afraid.” It came out in a squeak. Beneath all the sweat and smoke, he smelled faintly of grass after a rain shower. 

“Well, we’re in luck. I happen to know of a second.” 

We elbowed past the people who had crowded in behind us until we broke free. 

“Why didn’t we go this way first?” I asked as we ducked around a high wall leading to an empty courtyard. 

“The other way is usually faster, and cleaner. Over here.” Raiden pushed a crate, revealing a hole in the wall just big enough to crawl through. 

“Why is there a hole in the wall?” I eyed it, thinking pushing through the crowd would have been worth missing out on crawling through the dirt and spiderwebs. 

“Because even prisoners need the sun once a day.” Raiden dropped to his chest and crawled through. 

“Prisoners? Raiden, does this lead to the dungeons?”

He didn’t answer. I dropped to my knees and peaked in. “Raiden?”

“Hurry, if you’re coming.” His face loomed out of the darkness. I sighed. At least he cleared the webs. The stone inside the hole was sticky, and I tried not to think about it as I pulled myself through. 

“Almost there,” Raiden said, reaching in to grab my hand. It was warm compared to my surroundings, and I latched on gratefully. 

The drop on the other side wasn’t nearly as far as I assumed, and Raiden helped me from crashing face first onto the floor. I brushed off my smock as best as I could while inspecting the cell. The only light came from the hole, and it lit up a cage barely six paces long, and six paces high. Raiden had to stoop to fit. 

“I like my secret better.” I scooted closer to him after a moan somewhere down the line of cells caused goosebumps to erupt on my arms. 

He grimaced. “You see now why I preferred the door. Let’s get out of here.”

I hurried close behind him, trying not to look into the cells, or breathe for that matter. The smell was horrendous between the unwashed bodies and lack of a real privy. We dashed through the door leading out, the guards on either side shouting in alarm until they recognized Raiden. 

“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you, sire!” one called. 

Raiden waved. “Don’t worry, I know what’s going on!”

He did not know what was going on. 

We dashed around the corner and into the main hall, passing the throne room. People packed the entrance hall and spilled into the banquet room where the king was addressing his displaced subjects. It smelled barely better than the dungeon. 

“…and when he is found, we will make him pay!” the king roared, pumping his fist in the air. The crowd cheered, but no one was smiling. I slapped my hands over my ears to keep from being deafened by the echoes. 

“Sounds like he’s blaming the fire on some poor soul,” Raiden said, peeling my hand from my head. 

“Just like the attack.”

“Exactly like the attack. If we’re going to expose him, now's the time.”

I grabbed Raiden’s hand before I lost him to the crowd. Neither of us looked any better than the rest of them. We were the only ones moving, though, and King Rath’s attention found us quickly. A triumphant look flitted across his face, and the first tendrils of dread invaded my mounting excitement. 

“Raiden…” I tugged his hand, but he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Father, I—”

“The traitor is among us!” Rath screamed, pointing at us, spit flying from his lips. “He who was behind the burning of your crops has now struck your homes! I will not stand for it!”

Every head in the room craned to our direction. Anger sparked in every single eye. 

“No, that’s not what happened. I didn’t—”

“I saw you!” a young man screamed, shoving his way toward us. “You were on your horse, and you ordered our crops burned to ash!”

“It’s time to run,” I whispered, tugging his hand. 

“If I run, I will look guilty.”

“If you don’t, we will die. Please, Raiden.” I squeezed his hand, my eyes wide as I tried to ignore the growing murmuring around us. Then someone shoved him. I grabbed his arm to keep him upright, but the damage was done. The crowd pressed in on us on every side, grabbing at Raiden. A man swung at him, but missed and tripped, giving us a path. 

“Hurry!” I urged Raiden forward. Glancing up, I noticed a foot recalled by its owner, a woman I recognized. “Aunt Shae, you’re alive.”

“Go now, child. Run!”

She saved our lives. I sprinted after Raiden through the gap as the crowd converged behind us, yelling, cursing, crying. My heartbeat drowned them out as we flung ourselves up the grand staircase. I rarely had to climb this many stairs, and by the halfway mark, my calves cramped and the stitch in my side was back, but I refused to slow down. The first of our pursuers had reached the bottom step. 

Raiden was pulling farther ahead, and as soon as he crested the top stair, he turned back to me. 

“Keep going,” I wheezed. “I’m coming.”

 “Not without you.” He hauled me up the last few steps and half carried me down the next hall, stopping in front of a window. Without a break, he released me and backed up next to the window, slamming his elbow into it. The glass shattered. A rush of hot wind and sparks forced me backwards. Raiden threw a hand in front of his face and stuck his head out. 

“Next one,” he said, gesturing down the hall. I glanced at the mob. Nearly at the top of the stairs. Several had pulled candle sticks and sconces from the walls. 

“Your friend, Selma, what gods did she worship?” Raiden asked between breaths. 

“It’s hardly the time to have a philosophical discussion,” I panted. 

“Just tell me.” 

We skidded to a stop at the next window. The mob, once past the obstacle of stairs, had already reached the first window. I could barely hear Raiden over their noise. 

“The Spirit Gods.”

He smashed the second window. This time I prepared myself for the oncoming rush of heat, but it never came. Raiden leaned out the window. 

“Perfect. I need you to jump.”

“What?!”

“Jump, or wait for the mob. Your choice, but I’d much prefer you come with me. Trust, remember?” His eyes were wide and pleading. I took a breath and nodded. The mob was nearly upon us, so I didn’t stop to think. I threw myself out the window. 

Only when my feet left the windowsill did I realize what I had done and the panic caught up. The wind blew my hair from my face as I hurtled toward a pond at the edge of the veggie gardens. Before I had to ponder what a bad idea this was, I crashed through the surface of the water. It was deeper than expected, and I sank to the bottom before pushing myself off the ground and surfacing. 

Raiden leapt from the window, twisting in mid-air as he slung the bow from his shoulder and knocked an arrow. I furrowed my brow. Was he going to shoot the townsfolk hanging from the window?

He didn’t aim at them though, but toward the left, and when I saw what he was doing, a flood of compassion warmed my veins. The arrow left his bow just before he hit the water, and it arced over the flames licking the castle wall, severing the rope Selma hung by. Her body fell, engulfed by the fire. 

Raiden surfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water. “Did I get it?”

“Yes,” I whispered, unable to express how grateful I felt as we treaded water in an algae covered pond. Fire had been the preferred method of burial for the worshippers of the Spirit Gods for centuries. They believed it released their souls from their bodies. 

“Then let's get out of here before they get the same idea.”

We swam the short way to the edge and hauled ourselves onto dry land. Our luck held, and the townsfolk decided not to test fate by jumping. The gardens were easy to navigate now that I’d done it before, and we found the secret tunnel without trouble and slipped inside. 

Once the door clicked shut, a wave of exhaustion washed through me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, slowing my breathing to control my racing heart. Just as I got it under control, Raiden stepped close enough to feel his body heat and his breath on my cheek, and it sped up again. I was thankful for the lack of light so he couldn’t see the deep shade of red my face turned. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” he said. “I didn’t expect my father to turn on me like that.”

“Don’t be.” I reached a hand up in the dark, finding his cheek. A single tear rolled over my fingers as he leaned into my palm. “Gives me extra time to thank you.” I ran my fingers into his hair and pulled him down to my level, finding his lips with mine, and kissing him. 

They were as soft as I expected from a prince and tasted more like sweat and ash than the fairytales led me to believe, but it was because of those that I got to kiss him at all. His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me against his body, his tongue swiping across my lips. I parted them, tilting my head as the kiss turned exploratory. An urgent need to be closer to him took over, and I pressed closer, slipping my fingers beneath his shirt and tracing them along his spine. Raiden breathed in sharply through his nose, and the kiss intensified. 

I wrapped a leg around his, and he ran a hand up my exposed thigh. A moan escaped my throat, and I tilted my head back as he kissed my jaw, my throat. Then he let go, stepping back and breathing hard. 

“No, I–I can’t…”

“Why not?” I asked, breathless. Hurt crept into my voice. 

“Not here, not like this. It’s undignified to take advantage of you instead of at least treating you to dinner first like a lady—”

“Oh, shut up,” I said, finally understanding. “I grew up on a farm and lost my virginity in a horse barn. You’ll have time to treat me like a lady later.” 

He chuckled and drew me closer, nipping at my ear. “And that’s exactly why I will wait. You’ve been taught all wrong, and I must teach you what it’s like to be worshiped.”

I kissed him again, but went no further. The statement alone held a promise I dared not hope for. “I hold you to it, my prince.”

Raiden smiled against my lips. “Lead on, Princess. The faster we get out of here, the faster our lessons can begin.”

As exciting as it sounded, an unwanted logical thought cooled the humid tunnel. “What about your father?”

“I’m sure we’ll find time in between to deal with him. I mean to make you my queen.”

Queen. It was a title I had never coveted, but maybe, just maybe, I could get used to it. For Raiden. A smile crept across my face as I took his hand. 

“Well then, let’s get started.”