Chapter 8: Escape

The picnic spot was breathtaking, a vast open field with rolling green hills stretching as far as the eye could see. A crystal-clear river snaked its way through the valley, reflecting the golden afternoon sun. It was picturesque, peaceful, and the perfect place for Liora to start formulating her escape plan.

She sat on a soft blanket, pretending to enjoy the lavish spread of food while her eyes discreetly scanned the area. There were no obvious roads nearby, only dense forest beyond the hills and a few winding dirt paths leading back toward the estate. Too open, too risky. If she ran now, she'd be spotted before she even made it to the treeline.

Lucian was watching her. She could feel his gaze like a weight pressing against her skin. He was lounging beside her, a glass of wine in hand, his posture deceptively relaxed. He knew. Maybe not exactly what she was thinking, but enough to be suspicious. She needed to be careful.

"You're quiet," he observed, tilting his head slightly. "Not your usual brand of snark."

Liora plastered on a smirk. "Just enjoying the scenery. Trying to appreciate the little joys in life before I'm inevitably dragged back to my luxurious prison."

Lucian chuckled, but his eyes sharpened. "Good. I wouldn't want you to get any ideas."

Too late, she thought.

After lunch, Lucian's father, Lord Blackthorne, convinced him to allow Liora to ride without being tethered to him. It was presented as a test of trust, but she knew better. Lucian wasn't stupid. If he was agreeing to this, it was because he had some fail-safe in place.

Still, it was an opportunity.

Liora mounted Midnight again, feeling the powerful muscles of the stallion beneath her. As they set off at a steady pace, she used the ride to map out more of the estate's layout. She memorized every turn, every cluster of trees, every potential hiding spot. She noted the garage, a large structure near the back of the estate, where she saw a row of cars parked. The security around it didn't seem too tight. Interesting.

Lucian rode beside her, always within arm's reach, as if daring her to try something. She didn't—yet.

The next morning, Liora woke to the steady rise and fall of Lucian's breathing, her head resting against his chest. It took her a moment to register their position—tangled together in her bed, his arms loosely wrapped around her. Her first instinct was to shove him off, but instead, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are you watching me sleep again?" she muttered groggily, her voice thick with morning drowsiness. "Because if you are, that's just creepy."

Lucian, propped on one elbow, smirked down at her. "I wasn't watching you. I was just making sure you didn't try to strangle me in my sleep."

She snorted. "If I was going to do that, I'd at least make sure you weren't awake to stop me."

He chuckled, stretching lazily before finally rolling out of bed. "I stayed to make sure you didn't try anything reckless."

"And how did that work out for you?"

"Considering you're still here, I'd say rather well."

Liora huffed and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The ride the previous day had given her a crucial opportunity to map out the estate, and she now had a general idea of its layout. She had seen the garages, noted the location of the weaponry room, and studied the guards' routines. If she played this right, she might just have a chance to escape.

Lucian had put her through some ridiculous trust exercise the day before, and now, as if testing her further, he was sending her off alone with his parents. Or rather, Evangeline had insisted on taking her out to get to know her better. Alistair had backed her up, adding with a smirk that it was only natural to spend time with one's future daughter-in-law. This had sparked a tense discussion between him and Lucian, where Lucian had protested but eventually relented under his father's sharp gaze. Liora suspected this wasn't entirely about getting to know her—it was also a test. Evangeline seemed composed but observant, and Alistair had the air of a man who didn't miss much. She would have to play her cards carefully.

The outing began with a lavish picnic in a quiet clearing near the woods. A beautiful spread of fine cheeses, fresh fruits, and delicate pastries was arranged on an elegant cloth. The setting was idyllic, yet Liora couldn't shake the weight of her true purpose.

Alistair poured himself a glass of wine, then glanced at Liora. "Tell me, my dear, do you ride often?"

Liora hesitated before answering. "Not as often as I'd like," she admitted. "But I do enjoy it."

Lucian smirked beside her. "Is that so? I seem to recall you barely keeping up yesterday."

Liora shot him a saccharine smile. "Oh, I was just conserving my energy. Unlike some people, I don't feel the need to prove something every time I get on a horse."

Alistair chuckled. "Perhaps you'd like to prove something now?"

Liora's eyes flickered with interest. "What do you mean?"

"You can take a ride alone if you wish. There's a path that loops back to the estate."

Lucian stiffened, his expression darkening. "I don't think that's necessary."

Alistair arched a brow at his son. "She's not a prisoner, is she?"

Lucian's jaw ticked, but he said nothing. Liora, sensing an opportunity, feigned indifference. "It would be nice to stretch my legs. But only if Lucian trusts me."

His gaze locked onto hers, a silent battle passing between them. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. Take one of the estate's horses."

A few minutes later, Liora was astride a sleek chestnut mare, guiding her toward the trail. She kept her pace slow at first, watching the estate shrink behind her. Her pulse quickened. Alone at last.

She had to use this time wisely.

As she rode, she made mental notes of the estate's surroundings. The tree lines, the main roads, the side paths. And most importantly—the garage. She caught sight of it nestled near the stables, a discreet but accessible building. If she was going to escape, that would be her exit point.

The outing was a mixture of tense politeness and careful observation. Alistair was surprisingly talkative, asking her about her interests, her upbringing, even her thoughts on the wedding. Liora answered carefully, crafting her responses to appear agreeable but not overly eager. Evangeline, meanwhile, studied her with unreadable eyes, interjecting only occasionally.

Liora played her role well, but she was also searching—searching for an opportunity, a weakness, something she could use. And then, as fate would have it, the opportunity presented itself.

They had stopped near a scenic overlook when Liora saw it: a chance to create a distraction. The ground near the edge of the hill was uneven, loose stones scattered dangerously close to the path where Evangeline stood. A small misstep, a little push of fate, and she could cause just enough panic to shift attention away from herself.

Taking a calculated breath, Liora subtly kicked a loose rock behind Evangeline. The older woman took a step back, her foot slipping slightly. Liora gasped loudly, lunging forward as if to catch her. "Careful!" she exclaimed, gripping Evangeline's arm just as she steadied herself.

The moment worked perfectly. Alistair immediately turned his full attention to his wife, fussing over her, checking if she was alright. Evangeline, though clearly unharmed, looked mildly shaken. In the chaos of the moment, no one noticed Liora quietly slipping away.

Heart pounding, she moved quickly through the estate's corridors, ducking into a servant's quarters. She rifled through the closet, pulling out a simple maid's uniform and hastily changing into it. She let her hair fall forward, obscuring her face, and took a deep breath. This had to work.

Stepping out, she walked briskly, keeping her posture relaxed but purposeful. The key to sneaking past guards wasn't to hide—it was to act like she belonged. Every time she encountered one, she muttered something about Lucian needing them elsewhere or about tending to a room, and each time, they let her pass without question.

Her destination: the weapons room.

She had seen it the day before, when they retrieved the archery equipment. She knew there would be firearms inside. Sure enough, the room was mostly unguarded, the door left slightly ajar. Slipping inside, she quickly grabbed a pistol and tucked it under her apron. Just in case.

Now for the garage.

She had memorized its location from the ride the previous day. The challenge was getting there unseen. The estate was massive, and at any moment, someone could raise the alarm about her disappearance. She quickened her pace.

Upon reaching the garage, she scanned the cars. Most were luxury vehicles—too conspicuous. She needed something plain, something the staff would use. Finally, she spotted one of the simpler cars, a vehicle she had seen servants using for errands.

She tried the door. Unlocked. Luck was on her side. Slipping inside, she reached for the ignition. The keys were there. It was almost too easy.

Just as she started the engine, she saw movement at the entrance of the garage. A guard. Swallowing her panic, she rolled down the window and called out, "Lucian wants to see you. Urgently."

The guard hesitated, then nodded and hurried off. Liora gripped the steering wheel. One more obstacle.

The gate.

As she approached, she forced herself to breathe evenly. The guards at the gate looked her way, and she waved a hand dismissively. "I have an urgent delivery," she said, voice clipped with impatience. "If you want to double-check, feel free to ask Mr. Blackthorne, but he won't be happy about the delay."

The mention of Lucian made them falter. Then, as if fate had truly intervened on her behalf, a sudden commotion broke out behind them. Guards were shouting, searching for her. The distraction was all she needed.

The gate opened.

Liora kept her speed steady, driving out as if nothing was amiss. Only when she was a safe distance away did she press her foot down harder on the gas, her heart pounding in her chest.

She had done it. She was free.

For now.