Chapter 2

The horse she stole wasn't the fastest animal alive but since Clara was still moving through a labyrinth of narrow backstreets of the Lower City, it didn't really matter. The merchants offered various goods, mouthwatering smells of food mixed up with the foul smell of garbage and the contents of chamber pots being tossed out onto the pavement. As Clara passed by a small bakery, her stomach rumbled and she cursed at herself for not getting some breakfast from the kitchens before she left. But that would be too risky.

Right now, her mother probably assumed Clara was hiding somewhere in the palace again and it was going to take hours before Sophia realized that her daughter was missing. Clara needed that time to cover as much distance as possible.

She was tempted to use a boat to sail down the river, it would be way more comfortable than having to spend all day on a horseback, but someone in the docks would have noticed a young boy traveling alone. And when the guards came after her, they would have an easy trail to follow.

The thought made her shudder. Opposing her mother was one thing, Clara had been doing that most of her life and there really wasn't much Sophia could do about it. But by running away from the wedding, Clara was disobeying the king's orders as well. And disobeying king Hayden was something not many people dared to do because the consequences were always severe. The Burning Fury didn't forgive easily. But what could he do to her? Condemn her to a life in prison? He had already done that. Have her executed? So be it. Clara didn't want to die but life without freedom was no life at all.

Following the eastern road out of the city, she passed through the inner gates unnoticed, nervously pushing a lock of hair back under the cap she was wearing to cover her long red curls. It would probably be smarter to cut it altogether, it made her easily distinguishable which was dangerous in her current situation, but she just couldn't get herself to do it.

She was headed east because Levanta was west and that's where king Hayden was returning from. And wouldn't it be just ironic if she had waltzed straight into his entourage while being on the run from him? She might have been insane for trying to oppose him, but she certainly wasn't stupid.

Her eyes were inadvertently drawn to the other side of the valley Ebris was located in. One of the large mansions that dotted the mild slopes used to be her home. Now it was just an empty house filled with lots of memories that only brought pain. Her father teaching her to ride a horse. Giving her the first bow, she couldn't have been more than eight at that time. The pride in his eyes when she drew the string and the arrow hit the center of the target. All of the good memories in her head were connected to that man and now he was gone and it felt like a part of Clara's heart died with him.

Will king Hayden punish her family as well? He wasn't known to do that but maybe a girl disobeying him would make him lose control of his anger? Clara didn't particularly care about what would happen to her mother but she hoped her actions wouldn't have a negative effect on her brothers' careers. There was not exactly love between them, the two boys mocked and ridiculed her ever since she was a little girl, but they were her family.

Maybe if at least one of them was actually home when their father died, Clara wouldn't be in this situation at all. Having a man to 'take care of her' she wouldn't end up being the king's charge and he would have no reason to marry her off to a foreigner. But her oldest brother Sebastian was a diplomat, currently away somewhere beyond the eastern sea, and even though he was supposed to return in the following weeks, it would be too late to stop what was happening. Plus, he was loyal to king Hayden and would never go against his wishes even if he was willing to help his little sister.

And Nicholas? He never really liked Clara. Being two years older than her he considered himself stronger and smarter and thought he could order her around. Every time she outsmarted him he got furious and when she dared to beat him in a small archery contest their family held in the garden, he slapped her so hard she hit a rock with her head. She was only twelve years old and already needed several stitches to stop the bleeding. Their father punished him but it didn't help to improve the relationships between the siblings. Clara was relieved when Nicholas joined the military training and even more so when he was called away to be stationed in some cold mountains fighting primitive tribes.

Looking at the simple peasant houses lining the road with flocks of children running around, dressed in rags but laughing heartily, Clara wondered what it would feel like to have an actual happy family where people loved each other. At least she had her father.

A treacherous tear ran down her cheek and Clara wiped it with the back of her hand. Why was she crying? She should be happy. For the first time in her entire life, she was free, she could do whatever she wanted, go wherever she wanted. Yet, despite the beautiful day, all she felt was fear and desperation. She was alone and her future was uncertain.

Could she stop by one of the houses, ask the people to take her in? Perhaps they would, she had money to pay for shelter and food for some time. But then what? Would she become… What exactly were these people? Her eyes scanned the signs along the road. Seamstress, weaver, bakery, pottery, inn, blacksmith. She was almost at the edge of the city now, the blacksmith's house was standing aside from all other buildings, Clara guessed it was because of the increased risk of fire. She had no idea how to do any of those things. Maybe she could manage to serve ales in the inn but it would hardly be a good place to hide.

She knew how to be a lady, how to dress properly, talk and smile politely, dance, recite poetry. Skills that nobody outside of her sheltered world was going to appreciate. And she was an excellent marksman. But who would let a woman do that? She did her best to pass off as a boy, even tightly wrapping a wide piece of cloth around her chest to conceal her breasts. Luckily she wasn't very gifted in that area. But upon a closer look, a careful eye must have recognized she was not a gentle feminine young man.

What was she doing? This was insane. Perhaps she should just accept her fate and return to the palace. She glanced back at the city, just to get a quick look at the royal palace towering on a cliff above the river, and shivers ran down her spine. A dark-haired man on a gray horse was following her. There was no doubt about it, Clara had noticed him before and remembered his ridiculous purple cloak, not fitting with the rest of his outfit at all. And he couldn't have been simply going in the same direction as she was since she made at least one full circle while wandering through the alleys of the Lower City.

Clara tried to act like she didn't notice anything but was probably really bad at it since her whole body suddenly felt stiff from fear. Did the king order someone to follow her at all times, expecting her to disobey his orders? It couldn't have been Clara's mother, she would never waste money on providing Clara with a personal bodyguard. Or maybe he was just a thief who recognized her as a rich lady in disguise and thought she was going to be an easy target? It hardly mattered.

Before she could weigh her options and decide what to do the man was suddenly next to her, guiding his horse so close to Clara's that his knee brushed against hers. When he grabbed her reins Clara opened her mouth to cry out but her breath hitched upon feeling a sharp blade pressed against the other side of her chest. Quickly turning her head she saw another mounted stranger next to her, his mouth twisted into an evil smirk, his gray, watery eyes full of contempt.

"Stay silent, little lady," he said quietly, his voice filled with threat. Clara bit her lip not to scream out as she felt his blade pushing harder against her clothes, knowing that from that spot it would slide between the ribs right into her heart. "There is someone who wants to talk to you. After that, you are free to go wherever your noble heart wishes. Now, you can either come with us willingly, riding your own horse, or I can tie you up and toss you over my saddle like a sack of potatoes. Your choice." From the way he chuckled and his eyes slid over her body, it was obvious which option he would prefer.

Clara desperately looked around but they were behind the edge of the city now, it was just farmhouses and fields spreading around them. There were some wagons on the horizon but too far for anyone there to help her. Even if they wanted to help her. These two thugs looked well-armed and quite dangerous, a common merchant would probably just ignore her cries for help, not wanting to get in trouble as well. She couldn't do anything else but nod, still unable to put actual words through her mouth.

The first man yanked on her reins, tearing them out of Clara's hands and leading her horse to one of the side roads. The gray-eyed bandit remained close behind her, ready to grab her in case she tried something stupid like jump down and run off.

They traveled like that for more than half an hour before they reached a farmhouse, seemingly long abandoned. Clara shivered when they stopped in front of it and the gray-eyed man waved at her to get off her horse. When she did, he roughly grabbed her arm and led her inside, both stumbling over the broken things on the floor before their eyes got accustomed to the darkness.

The room was lit by a single torch, the barred windows not letting any sunlight through. There was one man standing in the center. Most of his face was covered by a scarf, leaving only short brown hair and eyes visible. The eyes scared Clara more than the stranger's knife from before, they were dark, black, absolutely devoid of any inner light, only illuminated by the reflection of the flickering flame from the torch. Even king Hayden's eyes didn't come anywhere near that darkness.

There was someone else in the room, a body curled up in a corner, dressed in dirty, bloodied rags, a black bag over his head. The ropes on his ankles were tight, digging into his flesh, and there was no doubt his hands were tied behind his back. The prisoner was alive, Clara noticed him moving a little from time to time, an occasional quiet groan of pain coming from beneath the cloth covering his head. Clara didn't have time to ponder over who he was because the dark-eyed man turned to her.

"Lady Redwood," he gave her a small bow and she was certain he was smirking under the cloth covering his mouth and nose. "I'm very glad you accepted my invitation."

As if she had a choice. "Who are you?" She finally found some words, trying to sound calm and brave but it came out as a little girl's sniffle.

"That's not really important."

He was right, it didn't matter who he was. There was one question that was way more important. "What do you want from me?" The man said they wanted to talk and then she'd be free but Clara doubted it would be that easy.

"Well," an amusement sparked through the darkness of his eyes for a moment, "I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement."

Clara didn't know how to respond to that, a horrible thought suddenly crossing her mind. Were these her future husband's men? Did lord Huxley send a bunch of thugs to make sure the pretty little Orellian bride didn't slip through his fingers? That's what he was like?

"Since you will need time to return to the palace unnoticed, I'll get straight to the point, my lady." So they were here to force her to go back. "The man you are marrying is a very close friend to our new queen, which puts you in a unique position." The man fished a small glass vial with clear liquid out of his pocket and held it against the light. Clara's eyes widened in fear. There was no doubt about what was in it. Poison of some kind. "You will use your husband's friendship with the queen to get close to the king and put this into his drink."

Clara's fists clenched at her sides. "No."

"Because you love our king so much? And he has always been so kind to you? Selling you off to our enemy like a horse? A slave?" The man's voice was more than ironic.

Clara shook her head, trying to sound strong. "I don't love him. But that doesn't mean I'm going to poison him." They couldn't make her do that.

"Such a brave and loyal little thing you are. Adorable." His chuckle sounded almost demonic. "You will do it. You want to know why?" Clara didn't want to know why but she didn't really have a say in the matter. The man who brought her in stepped forward, towards the body in the corner, dragging the struggling person closer to the torch.

When he removed the bag from the prisoner's head, Clara screamed out and tried to lunge forward but the third man, the one in the ridiculous purple cloak, grabbed her and didn't let her move. "Sebastian!" she cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The man on the ground squinted in the light, his eyes widening in recognition and horror upon finding hers. "Clara?" He tried to say more but a kick into his stomach stopped him, pushing all the air out of his body, making him curl up on the dirty floor.

"Sebastian!" Clara kept struggling against the man holding her, even though it was pointless. But that was her brother, the one that was supposed to be away on a diplomatic mission for weeks. He was here, tied up on the ground, half of his face covered in dried blood, one eye swollen shut, squirming in pain. The man above him lifted his foot to kick him once more. "No, please!" Clara screamed and the leader raised a hand, stopping the gray-eyed man from hurting Sebastian again.

Holding out the vial, he walked closer to Clara, black eyes piercing her. Clara stopped trying to get free from the steel grip, her eyes jumping between the poison and her brother. "It's really your choice, little lady. Once you get married, you will have five days to get the job done. If you do, we let this piece of shit go. If not, well… he's been a very annoying hostage, so I'm going to enjoy killing him. Very slowly and very painfully."

"Please, you can't make me kill the king," she sniffled, long having lost control over the tears. "I'll do anything else. We have money, I can…"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works," he interrupted her with a cackle. "I've been told the effects aren't immediate so if you do it carefully, you might even get away with it. And live happily ever after with that Levantian scum you are marrying." Knowing she murdered someone.

Clara saw her hand reaching for the vial as if she weren't even in control of it, glancing at her brother. He looked just as frightened as she was, shaking his head. When her fingers wrapped around the tiny piece of glass, he shouted, "Clara, don't!" A fist hit his chin, knocking him out.

"Don't worry, he's alive. For now." The man's tone wasn't very reassuring. "And, I almost forgot. I mean, it's only logical, but still, I feel like I should repeat it out loud. If you try to tell anyone, he dies. And we will know, we have lots of ears around."

Then why the fuck did they need her to do their dirty work? She nodded, carefully tucking the vial into her pocket.

"Go home now, little girl. You don't want to miss your own wedding. I bet it's going to be… magical." His diabolical laugh haunted her long after she left the farmhouse, spurring the horse into a sharp gallop towards the palace. No, she couldn't miss her wedding now. It didn't make the thing any less scary though.