Page 22 of Warrior Princess
“If he’s dead, good riddance,” Mykal muttered under his breath.
I hiccupped through my tears, the reality hitting me hard. “He’s your father.”
“No,” Mykal replied with a hardened edge to his voice. “He’s not.”
Just then, a shout echoed from beyond the door. “Your Majesty! The gates have been breached! We’re being invaded!”
Mykal and I froze, our embrace tightening in the face of this new threat.
“Keldara is being invaded?” I pulled back slightly to look at him.
Mykal nodded grimly. “The Crimson Clan is here.”
A wave of relief washed over me. Ronan must have somehow learned of King Eduard’s intentions.
“How did you—” I began, my thoughts racing.
“I was informed about the breach and came looking for the king,” Mykal answered, anticipating my unasked question. “I didn’t think—”
“Why didn’t you visit me sooner?” I pressed, searching his face for any hint of deceit.
Mykal shook his head, his expression tormented as he began to pace. “I thought you’d be safe here while I tried to talk some sense into him. I never thought—”
He stopped, his unspoken words hanging ponderously between us. He hadn’t thought adoptive father was capable of such wickedness, or that he would cross a line from which there was no return. As the reality of our situation settled around us, the distant sounds of chaos hinted at the battle unfolding beyond the palace walls. Whatever happened next, it was clear that everything had irreversibly changed.
Mykal’s grip on my hand was both urgent and reassuring as he swiftly pulled me to my feet. “We need to move,now,” he urged, his voice a low command.
He opened the door and I saw that the guards normally posted outside my room were missing. With no time to lose, we darted out into the hallway and left the stark, frightening reality of the encounter with King Eduard behind us.
The palace was teeming with turmoil. As we navigated the corridors, the muffled sounds of the battle outside seeped through the walls. Mykal moved with purpose, his familiarity with the palace's layout evident as he chose less-traveled paths, hoping to avoid running directly into the melee that had overtaken much of Keldara.
When we emerged into a different part of the palace, we weren’t so lucky. Two Keldaran guards spotted us and moved to intercept.
“Commander? Where are you going?” one of them asked as they looked down at our intertwined hands. “His Majesty stated that we are to–”
“The king is dead,” Mykal said, his voice determined. “What he says no longer matters.”
“That’s treason!” the soldier growled as he drew his sword.
Mykal released my hand and stepped forward to meet them, drawing a small, concealed dagger from his boot. His movements were precise and practiced, the blade flashing in a swift arc. The first guard barely had time to raise his swordbefore Mykal took him down with a quick strike to the side. The second guard engaged, forcing Mykal into a brief, intense skirmish that ended with the guard slumping to the ground.
Breathing heavily, Mykal glanced back at me, his eyes verifying I was unharmed before beckoning me forward. We continued our escape, moving quickly now as the sounds of the confrontation grew louder and the clash of steel and shouts from combatants echoed around us.
As we rounded a corner, the palace grounds came into view through an arched exit. The scene outside was a frenetic tableau of fighters. Crimson Clan warriors clashed with Keldaran soldiers amidst the ornate fountains and gardens now marred by the scars of battle.
My heart pounded as we stepped into the open air, the reality of the battle harsh and unavoidable. We moved with haste as we dodged combatants and debris, our focus on one singular goal: to find a way out.
That was when I saw Ronan. He wasn’t far from the palace gates, a commanding figure amidst the turmoil, his sword parrying and striking with lethal grace. He was in the middle of dispatching another Keldaran soldier when he heard my call.
“Ronan!” My voice cut through the din, strained but loud enough to reach him.
He turned, and his expression shifted from battle-hardened to shock and then relief upon seeing me. Quickly dispatching his foe, he ran toward us, his presence a beacon of hope. Mykal watched our backs, ensuring no one followed too closely.
When Ronan reached us, his strong arms enveloped me in a secure embrace. “Leila!” His voice was fraught with relief and worry. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I'm here,” I reassured him, my voice shaky with the residue of fear and relief. “Why are you here?”
He frowned. “It’s been six days, Leila. I haven’t heard from you.”
