Path
"The lamb that walks willingly into darkness... never suspects the wolf beside her."
The ambassador's quarters stood hollow and stripped bare. Birna's frustration mounted as she surveyed the empty chambers.
"There's nothing here! Are you certain the Grand Duke left his belongings in these rooms?"
She whirled on the servants, her voice sharpening to a blade's edge.
"Useless. Absolutely useless—the lot of you!"
When I return to the estate, that incompetent fool will answer for this waste of my time.
Birna's thoughts soured further. The Grand Duke of Castullo had visited her father's house not long ago, but he had barely spared her a glance—still smarting, no doubt, from his humiliating expulsion from Valdina Palace.
"My lady... I happened to overhear the Grand Duke speaking with his retainers. He mentioned searching for something he'd left behind in these quarters. I thought perhaps it might provide an opportunity for you to approach His Highness..."
The new maid—the one who had recently arrived at the palace—had whispered this intelligence to her in secret, hoping to curry favor.
"Hmph. That previous girl Sheila was utterly dim-witted, but you show a glimmer of promise. Continue proving yourself useful, and I may see fit to elevate your station."
Birna remained oblivious to the cold gleam that flickered in the maid's downcast eyes at her dismissive praise.
If the Grand Duke seeks relics of the late Empress, these are no ordinary trinkets. He would be deeply grateful to whoever recovered them for him.
Birna had been confident this errand would rekindle their stalled acquaintance. Instead, she found only dust and disappointment.
As she swept toward the exit, her footsteps faltered. Something in the air had changed—a tension, electric and wrong.
"What is that? What's happening?"
The distant clash of steel rang through the corridors. Columns of black smoke rose from the direction of the administrative palace and the Queen Mother's residence, staining the sky like spreading bruises.
Every instinct screamed that danger was closing in.
"Birna!"
A figure came running toward her through the chaos.
"Your Highness?"
Silver hair streaming behind her, luminous green eyes wide with alarm—Princess Medea appeared like a ghost from the smoke.
"Thank the heavens you're here! I've been searching everywhere for you. I was terrified they'd already taken you."
Medea pressed a hand to her heaving chest, gasping for breath.
Why is she looking for me? And what does she mean, 'taken'?
Confusion clouded Birna's thoughts.
"We must leave this place immediately. Come with me!"
"What in God's name is happening?"
"A rebellion! The insurgents will storm the palace at any moment. Hurry—there's no time!"
Medea seized Birna's wrist, her face taut with urgency. The hand gripping her was slick with nervous sweat, trembling as though paralyzed by fear.
"A rebellion?"
Birna's eyes went wide.
"My uncle revealed an escape route to me. Follow—quickly!"
Without waiting for a response, Medea pulled Birna toward the gardens. Birna tried to wrench free, suspicion warring with panic, but then her gaze fell upon the knight accompanying the Princess.
The Claudio family crest gleamed on his breastplate.
If Father dispatched one of our household knights, the danger must be real.
Surely, if any peril lurked ahead, the knight would have prevented Medea from leading her into it. Birna allowed herself to be guided forward.
At the rear of the royal garden, thick curtains of ivy concealed a section of the ancient wall. Birna helped tear away the vines, revealing a small, rusted door half-hidden by overgrowth.
The knight wedged his scabbard into the gap and twisted. The door groaned open with a protesting shriek.
Beyond lay a passage stretching into absolute darkness—cold, damp, and utterly impenetrable to the eye.
"I... I don't care for this. Your Highness, you enter first."
Birna retreated a step, pressing her palm against Medea's back to urge her forward.
"Very well."
The knight struck a torch to life, its flame casting dancing shadows against the stone walls. Only after watching Medea and her escort disappear into the gloom without incident did Birna gather the courage to follow.
The passage reeked of earth and mildew. Birna pressed her sleeve against her nose, grimacing.
Revolting.
Moisture seeped through the cracked stones beneath her feet. The air hung thick and stagnant, each breath feeling like it coated her lungs with decay.
"This corridor leads beyond the castle walls. My uncle assured me there will be allies waiting to escort us to safety. Just a little farther, Birna."
Medea's voice carried a soothing, almost maternal quality—oddly composed for someone supposedly fleeing for her life.
From somewhere far behind them, screams shattered the silence.
"Run! Run!"
"No—please—!"
The palace had descended into chaos, exactly as Medea had warned.
Have the rebels breached the gates already?
Birna's teeth found her lower lip. The pieces began falling into place—the Grand Duke's recent visit to her father, the hushed conferences from which she'd been excluded, her father's uncharacteristic distance these past days.
A rebellion. They knew this was coming. And no one thought to warn me?
Bitter betrayal coiled in her chest.
Father sent his own knight to rescue Medea—this worthless Princess—yet left his own daughter to fend for herself?
The resentment she'd suppressed in her initial panic now rose like bile. As they pressed deeper into the passage and the urgency of escape began to fade, darker thoughts consumed her.
She noticed Medea's pace slowing only when the Princess had already stopped entirely.
"What is it, Your Highness?"
Birna spun around. Some five feet behind her, Medea stood motionless in the wavering torchlight, her expression unreadable.
"I cannot do this. I must return."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I am the Princess of Valdina. The palace burns, my people suffer—how can I flee like a coward and live with myself? Even if I escape, I would never find peace."
That is your concern, not mine!
Birna's expression soured.
Even now, in the midst of catastrophe, she insists on playing the noble martyr?
"You're being unreasonable. What possible good can you accomplish by returning? The situation is beyond salvage."
She struggled to keep her voice level, to mask the impatience clawing at her throat.
"My servants—my maids—they might be slaughtered if I abandon them."
"..."
"And Grandmother—is the Queen Mother safe? At her age, this shock alone could..."
"Very well."
Birna's patience fractured.
"If you insist on returning, then return. I, however, intend to continue to safety."
"But the knight must accompany me. I am simply honoring Your Highness's wishes."
"Birna, my uncle said guards await us at the passage's end. If you simply continue along this path—"
She expects me to surrender my protection?
Absolutely unacceptable.
Why should I traverse this wretched darkness alone for her sake? Why should I extend her any courtesy whatsoever?
A cruel, pleasurable thought surfaced unbidden.
Let her stumble back alone. Let the rebels' blind blades find her.
All the more reason to keep the knight for myself.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, but this knight serves House Claudio. Surely you would not presume to claim him by virtue of royal privilege?"
"Birna..."
"The armor he wears, the sword at his hip—all belong to my family. His wages flow from our coffers. His duty is to protect the daughter of House Claudio. That duty supersedes all else."
Without Medea, Birna would never have discovered this escape route.
Yet rather than gratitude, she felt only the consuming desire to send her cousin back defenseless—stripped of protection, stripped of hope.
Birna cast a satisfied glance toward the knight. Though his helmet obscured his features, his silence spoke volumes—he clearly understood who his true mistress was.
"I shall, however, spare you a torch. The return journey will be quite dark otherwise."
Her tone suggested she was bestowing an extraordinary kindness.
"Very well, Birna. Please—stay safe."
Medea approached and clasped Birna's hands. A faint tremor ran through the Princess's fingers, as though fear had not quite released its grip.
For a fleeting instant, Birna wondered if she had been too harsh. The guilt evaporated almost as quickly as it arose, smothered by indifference.
"Wait for me, Your Highness. The moment I reach safety, I shall dispatch a company of knights to the palace. Do not lose hope."
The hollow promise dripped from her lips like honey—sweet and utterly false. Just like the vows she had once whispered while cradling Medea's infant daughter in her arms.
"I'm relieved, Birna. You haven't changed."
Medea nodded slowly, her expression serene.
"Pardon?"
"I shall wait."
Torch in hand, Medea turned and walked back the way they had come.
In the consuming blackness of the passage, the torchlight dwindled—a fading ember growing smaller and smaller until Medea's silhouette dissolved entirely into shadow.
"Hmph. Who can save someone determined to walk the path to her own destruction?"
Birna curled her lip in contempt as the last glimmer of light vanished.
"Come. Let us proceed."
"..."
The knight offered no response.
They continued deeper into the passage, the darkness pressing close around them.
❧Behind Birna, the silent knight followed.
She did not see his hand drift toward his sword.
She did not notice how his breathing had changed.
And she certainly did not sense the cold smile hidden beneath his helm.
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