Four

The horse carriage rattled down the winding path, carrying Janet and the kingsman away from the palace. The journey was long, the landscape unfamiliar and distant from the life she once knew. When they arrived at a quiet, secluded lodging, the kingsman offered her some kindness—unexpected, though coldly delivered.

"You can wash off the grime, take a proper bath, and change your clothes," he said, gesturing toward the chamber.

Janet nodded silently, barely processing his words. After freshening up, wrapped in a clean robe, she sat on the edge of the bed, her mind still clouded.

"I imagine you're curious why I rescued you," the kingsman said from the doorway, arms crossed. "Don't be. It wasn't because of any affection. I'm not infatuated with you."

Janet raised her head, eyes searching his face, desperate to understand. But he turned, shutting the door behind him without another word.

Alone, she sat at a small desk, resting her head on her arms. The images haunted her—her parents, their execution, the cries, the silence that followed. It echoed like a ringing bell, deafening and constant.

"I was useless… I couldn't save them," she whispered, her voice trembling. Shame and grief surged through her. She began to sob, her chest heaving with the weight of it all.

In a storm of anguish, she grabbed a knife from the table, her hand shaking as she raised it. But just as she steeled herself—

The door flew open.

The kingsman grabbed her wrist. "Stop."

Tears streaked her face. "Why are you still here? Did you come back to watch me break? Or feel guilty for saving me?"

He released her gently, his expression unreadable. "You need to leave. Now. The king's soldiers know you've escaped. Someone saw you rise from the sand. If they find you here, we're both dead."

Janet blinked through her tears, then slowly nodded. She packed what little she had and made her way to the door. Turning back, she met his eyes.

"Thank you," she said quietly, bowing low in gratitude.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you," he replied flatly. "I did it for your parents."

The door slammed behind her.

Moments later, the king's cavalry arrived at the kingsman's estate. Lord Mark dismounted and approached him.

"Will you join our search party?" he asked.

The kingsman shook his head. "No. I'm conducting my own investigation."

Lord Mark studied his face, skeptical, then nodded and motioned for his troops to move on.

***

Janet crept through the dense woods, fear coiled tight in her chest. Every sound made her flinch. Her clothes clung to her from the sweat of her escape. When she reached a stream, she hesitated, then slipped into the water to wash away the grime of the road and her dread.

She kept watch as she bathed, her eyes scanning the forest. After changing into dry clothes, she sat momentarily, unsure of where to go next. She had no map, no plan—only the instinct to keep moving.

Suddenly, the thunder of hooves cracked through the air.

The king's army.

Panic surged through her. She grabbed her bag and darted into the trees, weaving between trunks and branches to stay out of sight. But Lord Mark, high on his horse, spotted her through a telescope.

"There! She's heading east!"

They pursued her.

Janet's legs burned as she ran faster, heart pounding in her throat. She pushed through branches, leapt over roots, hoping for a road, a path—anything.

But the trees ended.

Ahead of her, a waterfall roared.

Behind her, the soldiers closed in.

She turned, breathless and cornered, her back to the drop, eyes wide with terror.

There was nowhere left to run.