Page 65 of Lost Heir
“We heard,” I interrupted brusquely. “Tell me you know a way out of here, baby brother.”
“Of course I do.” He smirked, then eyed Ronan warily. “He didn’t really try to…”
I shook my head. “Of course not. This was Caelan’s grand plan to get rid of Ronan and force me to be with him. Look – we need to get out of herenow.”
Selene rushed forward, her eyes wild. “You’re leaving with him?”
I nodded. “I’m not leaving him to fend for himself.”
“No,” Selene said. “You can’t. You’ll be in danger!”
“No I won’t,” I sighed. “I have a plan.”
What the others failed to realize was that Commander Mykal had spies everywhere. I was banking on the fact that he had them posted here in Valoria. If he heard about my escape, he may just come and find us. Possibly. It might put Ronan at risk, but I had to pray to the goddess that Mykal could be reasoned with. This was our only option. Staying here was a death sentence, and cutting through the Central Plains was even worse since the governor was in Caelan’s pocket.
Selene glanced around nervously. “What’s your plan?”
Before I could answer, Ronan spoke up. “Can we talk and walk at the same time? My life is sort of on the line right now.”
“Right!” Marcel snapped his fingers. “Follow me.”
I dropped down beside Henry. “Stay safe. Whatever you do, don’t get involved. Viktor will protect you.”
Although he wore a forlorn look, Henry nodded. “Yes, Miss Leila.”
With nervous anxiety buzzing through all four of us, we left Henry behind and Marcellus led us out of the gardens. Under the bright noon sun, we hastened across the manicured grounds of the Eastern Palace, dodging the prying eyes of courtiers and servants. Marcellus, with a brisk pace, navigated us through less frequented paths, lined with blooming flowers and towering hedges that provided a semblance of cover.
Selene's gaze darted around as she observed the lush surroundings with a mixture of awe and anxiety. “This place is like a labyrinth!” she commented, her voice hushed.
“Keep up,” Ronan urged, casting a wary glance over his shoulder at her. His alertness was palpable, a stark contrast to the serene beauty around us.
Marcellus, leading with confidence, pointed towards a distant archway that marked the transition from the Eastern to the Western Palace. “We'll need to cross the open courtyard of the Central palace,” he said, his tone serious. “Stay close and act natural.”
As we stepped into the square, the vast expanse of the courtyard stretched before us, bustling with activity. Nobles strolled leisurely, guards patrolled the area, and servants hurried about their duties. We blended into the crowd, our group appearing as nothing more than a casual assembly of palace dwellers enjoying the day.
Moving swiftly across the courtyard, the Western Palace loomed closer, its grandeur casting a long shadow over us. I felt a tug on my sleeve and looked over to see Selene, her face etched with concern. “There are a lot of guards, Leila,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chatter of the courtyard.
With a reassuring smile, I gently squeezed her hand. “It’ll be fine. The guards searching for Ronan probably went to the Northern palace, and when they can’t find him there, they’ll head to the Eastern palace,” I whispered back.
As we hastened across the sunlit courtyard, the sudden, sharp call of a guard cut through the air, shattering our brief illusion of anonymity. “There they are!Stop!” The command was directed at us, an authoritative voice slicing through the casual hustle and bustle.
We quickened our pace and tried to blend into the crowd, but it was too late. The distinctive clank of armor grew louder as more guards joined the pursuit, alerted by their comrade's call. Panic knotted in my stomach as I glanced over my shoulder to see several guards breaking through the throng, their eyes locked on our group.
“This way, quickly!” Marcellus urged, his voice tight withurgency. He veered off the main path and raced down a less trodden garden trail. His knowledge of the palace's layout was our only advantage.
The sound of our pursuers' boots against the cobblestones grew louder, a relentless echo that spurred us forward. Ronan, ever the protector, moved to the rear of our group, casting wary glances behind us, his posture tense and ready.
“Keep moving!” I heard him say, the determination in his voice bolstering my resolve.
The once peaceful courtyard transformed into a maze of fear and desperation as we dodged statues and barreled through archways, the looming Western Palace our only beacon of hope amidst the chaos.
As we neared the secluded door Marcellus was aiming for, the guards’ shouts grew ominously close, their presence an ever-looming threat at our backs.
Beside me, Selene ran with a grace born of her time at sea, her breaths measured despite the panic. “We're almost there,” she panted, her encouragement mingling with the adrenaline that coursed through my veins.
Finally, Marcellus pushed open the concealed door and we slipped through one by one, the dim corridor of the Western Palace swallowing us whole. The door shut with a quiet thud behind us, momentarily silencing the clamor of the chase.
“We can't stop now,” Marcellus whispered, leading us deeper into the labyrinth of the palace, the sound of our hurried footsteps the only evidence of our flight.
