ESCAPE- The Captive

 Amara paced restlessly before her window, the silver moonlight painting an ethereal glow on her troubled face. The usually bright blue of her eye, the color of a summer sky, was now clouded with a storm of emotions. She bit her lower lip, deep pink staining the otherwise pale skin, a testament to the inner turmoil gnawing at her.

Amara slipped out of her chambers, the plush carpets muffling the sound of her footsteps. She navigated the familiar corridors and finally reached the servants' quarters. A quieter, more subdued part of the castle. Kylea's room was situated at the end of the hallway, a simple but comfortable haven for the ever-faithful handmaiden.

Pushing open the door creaked slightly, and Amara winced at the sound. But the room was dark, and Kylea's rhythmic breathing confirmed she was still asleep. Amara approached the bedside and witnessed the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on Kylea's peaceful face.

"Kylea," she whispered.

Kylea stirred, a frown creasing her brow even in sleep. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of slumber. As her vision adjusted, she met Amara's gaze, a flicker of concern washing over her sleep-addled face.

"M-my lady? What are you…no! Is there anything I can help you with?" she mumbled; her voice thick with sleep.

Amara hesitated, her emotions a tangled mess. "There… there's someone I need to speak with," she confessed, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Kylea's brow furrowed. "Who is it, my lady?"

"Kearl," Amara blurted out, surprised by the name tumbling out so readily.

Kylea's eyes widened in surprise. "The prince?"

Amara nodded, a flicker of desperation igniting in her gaze. "He may not have much political say, but he wouldn't support Morci's ambitions. The royal family has always been wary of him, wouldn't they take action against this situation?"

Kylea pondered it for a moment, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps," she conceded. "But a letter wouldn't be enough. He needs to understand the gravity of the situation, the desperation behind your actions."

Amara's shoulders slumped. "You're right. A letter wouldn't suffice. I need to meet him, face-to-face."

A tense silence settled between them, the enormity of the task dawning on them both. Traveling to the capital alone, especially for two unaccompanied women, was fraught with danger. Highwaymen, brigands, and unscrupulous opportunists lurked in every shadow, drawn to the allure of easy wealth.

"Traveling to the capital alone... it's too risky," Kylea finally whispered, voicing the unspoken fear.

Amara nodded grimly. "We'll also need something that will mask our identities at the very least to avoid unnecessary attention."

They spent the next hour huddled together, whispering plans and discarding impracticalities. The idea of joining a merchant caravan was quickly dismissed – too slow and cumbersome. Waiting until morning was akin to surrendering, putting themselves back at the mercy of House Skyer.

"Escort mercenaries?" Kylea suggested, her voice hesitant.

Amara eyed her skeptically. "Can we trust them? Their loyalty usually lies with the highest bidder."

Kylea's cheeks flushed a faint pink. "W-well, actually," she stammered, "there's this… one fellow I know..."

Amara's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Oh! Is it perhaps…?" she teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

Kylea swatted her arm playfully, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Maybe. But he seems trustworthy enough. Been hanging around the market lately, looking for work."

Intrigue sparked in Amara's eyes. "This mercenary-slash-suitor. Does he have a good reputation?"

Kylea bit her lip. "He claims to be a former knight and is very strong. But while his house is unknown, he seems decent enough. Always polite, never pushy. But…" she trailed off, a flicker of doubt clouding her eyes. "There's always a 'but' with mercenaries, isn't there?"

Amara considered it for a moment. A familiar face, someone with a vested interest in their safety, might be their best chance. "Alright then," she finally declared, a spark of determination lighting up her face. "Let's go find this… gentleman of yours. But first, some disguises."

A mischievous glint twinkled in Kylea's eyes. "Leave that to me, Lady Amara. I have a knack for theatrics."

 Amara and Kylea emerged from the room they had commandeered for their transformation. Gone were the flowing gowns and intricate hairstyles befitting a noblewoman. In their place stood two figures that would blend seamlessly amongst the common folk.

 Amara, her raven black hair tamed and secured in a thick braid, sported a rough spun tunic and sturdy breeches. The disguise, though practical, chafed against her refined sensibilities. Yet, as Kylea helped her adjust the worn leather jerkin, a spark of amusement ignited in Amara's eyes.

"This feels...strange," she admitted, flexing a hand that was unaccustomed to callouses. "But… a comfortable kind of strange, like the freedom I used to feel when hunting with… father, I wish I could see him again," Back then, she'd ditch the corseted dresses and petticoats for simple breeches and a tunic, her hair tied back in a practical braid. It allowed her to move freely, to climb trees with ease, to blend in with the rustling leaves and dappled sunlight. This disguise, though born of necessity, brought back a flicker of that forgotten freedom.

"we'll definitely know the truth behind their disappearance one day," Kylea added with a sympathetic tone "but now is the time to make sure there's a home for them to get back to."

"well…" Kylea continued, smoothing down her simple serving-maid attire, "I'm afraid you don't get the luxury of a disguise. Two 'maids' on an errand from House Skyer – that story will hold more water than a fabricated identity for both of us."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Kylea's face, a stark contrast to her earlier enthusiasm for disguises. Sensing her friend's dejection, Amara reached out and squeezed her hand.

"let's try doing this again in the future," she said reassuringly. "It'll be nice to move around as Ayra with her 'sister' from time to time. And besides, you always did look more comfortable in sensible shoes than those fancy slippers the ladies wear."

Kylea managed a smile. "…okay. Now, shall we find this Bain of mine?"

"Mine~?!" Amara added with a teasing smile on her face. "Ah…!" Kylea's face flushed red, as she reminisced her words, "N-no, wait! I didn't mean it that-" but Amara promptly interrupted her, "No need to explain further, this big sis of yours is cheering for you."

 They journeyed to a bustling tavern, its windows glowing warmly in the gathering darkness. Inside, a cacophony of boisterous laughter, clinking glasses, and drunken brawls filled the air.

Amara wrinkled her nose at the pungent mix of stale ale and sweat, "urg…! Smell like the hunting camp after the hunt." but Kylea, ever resourceful, wove through the throng with surprising dexterity.

Reaching the bar, they caught the attention of a portly, red-faced man wiping down a mug. "Excuse me," Kylea said politely, "we're looking for someone… Bain? Tall fellow, always boasting being a former knight, see who it is?"

The barkeep squinted at them, his gaze lingering a little too long on Kylea's shapely figure. "Bain, eh? Aye, he comes here sometimes. But he left a good hour ago, and said something about catching some shuteye at his place."

Amara gritted her teeth, frustration bubbling within her. Every delay put them further behind schedule and at risk of being dragged back to the house. "Do you know where he lives?" she asked curtly.

"Sure, sure," the barkeep slurred, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. "Down by the docks, past the old tannery. Can't miss it, little rundown place but sturdy enough."

Kylea thanked him, more out of politeness than sincerity, and they pushed their way out of the stifling tavern. The cool night air was a welcome relief, but the tension remained.

Following the barkeep's vague instructions, they navigated a labyrinth of narrow cobbled streets, the flickering lanterns casting an eerie glow on the surrounding buildings. Suddenly, a glint of metal flashed in the dim light, and a throwing dagger shot towards them.

 Kylea reacted instinctively, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she lunged forward, "A-amara...!!!" shoving Amara out of the way. But the dagger somehow managed to reach Kylea, who released a sharp gasp and a crimson stain blooming on her clothes.

Amara's heart hammered against her ribs, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Kylea!" she cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of fear and fury.